Ripped Apart in a New York Minute
by Marshall Levin
Summary: A take off of Max Payne using my own original characters. "On the run from the law he's trying to protect!" - NOT FINISHED


Ripped Apart in a New York Minute Written By: Marshall Levin  
  
Prologue  
  
". Dispatch to all units, all units, shots fired at Veridian Plaza. Repeat shots fired at Veridian Plaza. Suspect Jonathan Treverlan presumed on site."  
"Unit six requesting back up... Unit six requesting backup. Officer in danger, Repeat officer in danger."  
"Unit six, comeback. Confirm officer in danger."  
"Officer in danger confirm."  
The voices and radios all seemed to fade into oblivion. All into a background noise. And then it was over. I released my finger from the trigger. The final shot, an epiphany of what had happened and what was to come. I could hear in what seemed like the distance the sound of the roof elevator opening. I could here them coming. Guns ready, cuffs out, Miranda rights ready to be read. I gazed out into the distance, the city I once called home was staring me in the eye.  
To know what really happened we have to go back a year and a half. Back to the night it all started.  
  
Part 1: Ripped Apart Prologue  
  
I was still working homicide. Twelfth precinct. A hellhole of a place. I was just there until I got my promotion. Then, it was to the 53rd, heaven on Earth. My shift had just ended. It had been one of those weeks. Three triple murders in two days, and only a lead on one of them. It would be good to get home.  
"Hey Jon! When are you gonna come work for the DEA? We could have some fun over there. I could use someone like you." I looked up from my briefcase. Ian Eubanks. Strangest guy I ever met. He was projects director over in the DEA. We had been friends since high school. He was one of those guys you can trust with your life and not give it a second thought.  
"Sorry Ian. I'm staying here till I get Lieutenant. Besides, I promised Dorothy I wouldn't."  
"Since when does she govern where you work?"  
"Since Marshall came. See my last cup of late night coffee. She says I am too wired when I get home."  
"That's you Jon. A real good guy. You still on for some D&D tomorrow?"  
"You bet. Wouldn't miss it for the world."  
  
Besides where I worked, life was good. I still didn't have my Jaguar but, in time. We had the perfect life Dorothy and I. She was so beautiful. Long dirty blonde hair going down her back, a smile you could just die for, and eyes that saw deep inside of me, things that I never knew existed. I on the other hand was your average Joe. About five-eleven, wavy brown hair, glasses. We had a nice house in a little town on the Jersey side. White picket fence, the sound of children playing, and the smell of freshly mowed lawns on a falls night eve. A new baby son to be proud of. Basically the American dream come true. But people tell me that I'm prone to nightmares.  
  
"Hey sweetie, I'm home." There was an eerie silence in the house.  
"Dorothy? Hello?" The lights were out. Still no noise. I looked at my watch. November 18, 2002. So it wasn't my birthday. No surprise party for me. Ever since I started working at the 12th I've lost all track of time.  
I took a few steps inside. The sun was setting behind me with practiced bravado and it cast its foreboding glow into the foyer. The phone started to ring. I went over to it. Picked it up  
"Listen something strange is goin."  
"Is this Jon Treverlan?" The voice was that of a female. She sounded so serious it was scary. There was something about her voice though. Something that seemed familiar.  
"Who the hell is this?"  
"You are already too late" The line clicked dead. I pulled the receiver from my ear and stared at it. I would have to figure out who it was later on. I hung it up and reached in my jacket and pulled out my Berretta. Through out my entire career I had never shot anyone. I was what people called the good cop.  
As I walked through the foyer to the living room, I saw something painted onto the wall. It was a rose. I stood there staring at it.  
"A rose?" I though to myself. "What could a rose signify?"  
I continued into the living room. It was almost pitch dark except for the fading light of the sun and the dying fire in the fireplace. I could see the outline of pictures, furniture, and my entertainment system that I never have time to enjoy. I looked down and noticed dirt on the carpet from shoes. I knew my wife and she never let anyone wear shoes past the door.  
The baby started crying. He scared the hell out of me. I made a dash for the upstairs two at a time. I got up to the head on the flight and heard a man start yelling. I couldn't make out what he was saying.  
"Dorothy!?" Saying that was a mistake that would haunt me forever.  
Three gunshots. She screamed. Time seemed to slow down. I ran for the baby's room. Blood was everywhere.  
He lay there on the floor. Lifeless. I stood there. Looking. Everything turned black. I was in shock.  
"Jon!" Everything came into play. I ran into our master bedroom.  
The light from the shots blinded me. I could see him pull the trigger. I could hear her scream. I could see her fall. I could see myself aim my gun; pull the trigger over and over and over. Empting my clip, watching him fall. A glass of rusty brown liquid shattered on the floor. The bottle was half empty. I stood there with my gun still aimed for what seemed like forever.  
  
"Hey Jon! You left door open you dumbass." Ian had showed up at the house. "Jon? Where are you?"  
He looked around. Noticed the same eerie silence that I had noticed. He walked past the rose into the living room.  
"Jon? Dorothy? Where is everyone?"  
I could hear him downstairs. Hear him calling our names. I couldn't answer him. I couldn't even move. Nothing responded.  
  
Ian made his way upstairs. He now had his weapon drawn. He could see the door to Marshall's room open. I could hear his footsteps as he walked inside. I could hear what he said as he saw Marshall on the floor; I could hear him come into our room.  
"Oh god." He came over to me. I could feel him put his hand on my shoulder, feel him turn me around.  
"Jon. Can you hear me? Jon?" I turned my head and looked at her on the bed. I looked back at him.  
"I'm transferring to the DEA."  
  
That was a year and a half ago. Everything ripped apart in a New York Minute. The bastards who had done this were high some artificially created drug called Wild Rose. It's extremely addictive and breaks down basic motor function within 24 hours if not taken regularly. The old cliché "24 hours to live" come true.  
  
As soon as I transferred to the D.E.A. we got a small break in the case. Antonio Ciani, connected to the Manguso crime family was trafficking the drug under his boss's nose. The guy had himself about three feet under. He'd soon be meeting six. Ian sent me undercover into one of the worst crime families in the city.  
I had just gotten off the bus outside my apartment, when I got a call from a guy at the station.  
"Jon. This is Brandon. You must meet with Ian immediately. We got a problem. Corner of Third and Broadway."  
I hadn't even talked to Ian in seven weeks. It's not protocol to meet with undercover agents. What he had to say must be important.  
  
Present Day April 19, 2004  
  
Part 1: Ripped Apart Chapter 1: Third and Broadway  
  
The rain had been coming down for about a day now. We had had rainstorms before but this was ridicules. Flood warnings had been issued for the upper part of Manhattan.  
I stepped off the bus and took a look around. Second and Broadway. I only had to go one block. I started walking. This was the kind of rain where you can't really see two feet in front of you.  
I passed in front of Roma's pizza. By far the best in town. The smell was so tempting. I could see a figure standing on the corner. His back was against a newspaper dispenser. I approached from behind.  
"I would've preferred a nicer meeting place. It's too damn wet out." He turned around.  
"I aim to please." He said.  
"Brandon said it was important. What's going on?"  
"We have reason to believe that there is an insider in the D.E.A. Feeding information to the Manguso's."  
"Whoa Ian. I'm not internal affairs. What does this have to do with me?"  
"Jennifer Frostad." She had been working with me on the case for the last five months. We had brought her in from another u.c. (Undercover) she was one of those who had both book and street smarts. A masters in psychology, yet she still acts like a blond every once and a while. She was about 5'4 with brown eyes and hair that was cut short down to her shoulders.  
"That's impossible. I've been constantly watching her since she came on."  
"She worked under Cure before coming to us." Donald Cure. One on Ciani's guys. We were trying to get him on art theft. It all clicked into place.  
"I'll look into it."  
"I'll be in touch."  
And with that he was gone. When we were in high school he always wanted to be Spiderman. He sure can disappear like him.  
  
213. That was her apartment number. Her place was right there. Strange that Brandon would pick the same place where he thought the insider was. I knocked twice. It was only 9'o-clock. Her door opened.  
"You're soaked. Come on in and dry off. What are you doing here?"  
"I got contacted by Ian." I said as I took a towel. "He says we have an insider. He thinks it's you." The direct approach. Always works. A total look of surprise came over her.  
"That's complete bullshit and you know it. I want to nail this guy as much as you do."  
"Are you sure? I mean once you think about it makes sense. You worked with Cure for over a year. Who's to know what you did while you were there. Or what he did."  
"Jon. Come on you know me. Who thinks we have an insider? Ian? You know that he would never suspect me."  
"It was Brandon. Brandon was the one who called me first."  
"There you go. Brandon is by far the weirdest person in the whole force. Plus he has never liked me. Especially after he asked me out and I said no." She was just about to give more of her argument when my cell phone rang.  
"Hello?. Hey Tony. Uh-huh. Ok. Did you say Roscoe?. Oh, Jefko, ok. Alright . Yeah. Ok. Bye."  
"Listen Jon. I'm not the insider. If they're even is one. Call me later."  
"Yeah."  
  
I walked out of her building into the cold rain. I had to go to Jefko station to meet with one of Ciani's guys about something. He wouldn't tell me over the phone. I looked at my watch: 9:15. Just a block to the bus stop. Little did I know that I wouldn't even take five steps.  
  
The explosion sent me flying. It totally took me off guard. I turned my head and look up at the building. The fifth floor was bursting with flame. Jennifer lived on the second. I got up and started running toward the building.  
What I saw next stopped me dead in my tracks. The rose. The same one I saw in my house. Spray-painted on the front of the building. I walked up to it and touched the paint. Still wet. I did a quick perimeter check. No one was around. I went into the building and back up to the second floor. As I ran down her hallway I noticed at the end on a wall the same rose. I got to her apartment, kicked the door in and went inside. She was sprawled out on the floor by a chair. I ran over to her and rolled her over.  
"Jenn? Can you hear me? Jenn?" All I got from her was a muffled moan. I hoisted her up over my shoulder, and walked out of the apartment. My mind was going a thousand miles a minute. Why would Brandon have me meet here? Why accuse her? Who would blow up her building? As I went down the stairs I grabbed my cell and dialed Ian.  
"Ian! Get over to Jennifer's place. Her building just went up in an explosion. The fifth floor was blown out. Get a few ambulances and whatever you can. She'll be outside. I gotta split." I didn't even give him a chance to say anything.  
I got us both out of the building. I picked a place along the side of the building and set her down in a sitting position. I took another look around and didn't see anyone, but I could hear the sirens coming. I took one last look at her and took off into the rain toward Jefko station.  
  
I hopped on a bus at Second and Broadway. As we rolled off I could see the police fly past us on their way to Jennifer. I focused on the reflection in the window. Not the same man I used to be. My hair was matted down and flat, I didn't have my glasses anymore, and I had at least six days worth of growth on my face. To sum it all up I looked like hell. Had for the last year and a half. Over the past months I had talked to so many counselors that I stopped keeping count. Every single one of them said that revenge would not bring them back. I wasn't in this just for the vengeance; I was in it so that no one else has to go through what I have, and still am. Yet they all still say that I should take time off, relax, maybe find another career, they even suggested that I spend time in the nut house. I don't want to end up like Ian's twin Jonny, sitting in a corner holding his little teddy bear, screaming whenever anyone comes to see him. I'm not that crazy.  
The ride was short. I got off at Jefko and went down.  
  
Water was leaking everywhere. It was practically raining as much as it was outside. There were benches lined up along the far wall. There was someone sitting on one in the middle. I walked up and sat down.  
"Rain, rain go away." He looked at me. He was Nic Morgan. Big guy. If you didn't know him he could intimidate you pretty badly. He had brown matted down hair, brown eyes, and his face had scars on it from his youth.  
"You don't see many cops out on a rainy night." I looked at him. He was never known to play games with anyone. He couldn't have known anything though.  
"Come again?"  
"Just small talk." There was an uncomfortable pause. "Tony got a direct message from Paul." Paul was the head of the Manguso family. The Don as everyone called him.  
"So? What does that have to do with me?"  
"Apparently The Don has somewhat of an interest in you. He's heard a lot about you. Working your way up in so short a time. You gotta admit it comes off kinda suspicious. Nobody's that good."  
"Listen, if you want to accuse me of something, come out and say it."  
"Ok. Fine. They think you're a cop Jonny boy." I looked at him with my best poker face ever. How could they have found out? Everything was perfect. Background, history, set up, everything. Could Jennifer have really tipped them off? I had to just go with it. I stood up with my hand in my pocket and looked Nic in the eye.  
"A cop. Are you out of your mind? If you don't have anything important to say to I'm outta here." He got up and pulled a gun on me.  
"Can't let you do that Jonny. We don't like cops. You should know that." He smiled. "This is how its gotta be. Sorry."  
"Jonny." I said in a whisper. I looked at him. "Don't call me Jonny." He got a weird look on his face. Aimed his gun and was about to fire.  
The shot echoed throughout the subway. Nic had a look of surprise on his face. He fell forward. I pulled the gun from my pocket and walked over to him. I bent down and rolled him over. He was still alive but not for long. He looked up at me.  
"You'll never live to regret this." I looked at him and smiled. I reached over his body and picked up his gun and unloaded his clip. Then searched his jacket and found two more. I tapped one on his chest.  
"Thanks." I got up and never looked back.  
  
I started to make my way back upstairs when I heard voices coming from around the corner.  
Great. Just what I need. More of them. I thought to myself. As far as I could ascertain there were three of them. I ducked down behind a fairly large trashcan. I could see them come around the corner.  
Chris Lehman, Eric McCormick, and Jared Ross. What a motley group. I'd met two of them before, Chris and Jared. Chris was tall. About six-one with brown hair that wasn't really spiked but stood up. He had brown eyes that constantly stared into space. He always talked about how he was going to make it big in Chicago. Jared on the other hand was completely different. Standing at about six-one or six-two he had a heavy build. Dark brown hair with equally dark brown eyes, we went to the same high school together, though I hardly said two words to him. He was the shy type. He never talked much. He would just be one of those guys in the corner and when you called on him he came. The last one, Eric I knew nothing about. He had just come into the "family" if you will about three weeks ago. He stood at five-nine or so with flaming red hair.  
Chris and Eric were talking amongst themselves while Jared just walked holding his gun out. They rounded the corner and if I played my cards right I could get at least two of them but end up shot by the third. I could make a run for it if I waited, but as soon as they found Nic lying there I wouldn't get very far. They most likely had the place surrounded. I quickly glanced at my watch. It read 9:31. I reached in my pocket at they passed my trashcan by and fished out my silencer. I sat there waiting as I put it on my gun. I saw them reach the foot of the stairs. Then it began.  
  
"Jesus Christ! Eric, go topside and get some more people down here." Chris sighed a long sigh. He looked down at Nic.  
"Frickin idiot. I knew he would get himself killed one of these days."  
  
I could hear Eric running towards the stairs. Poor guy. Wouldn't even know what hit him. He should've joined the fire department or something. He rounded the corner and I had my shot.  
"Sorry." I said under my breath. I faked a cough as I pulled the trigger. He didn't even have time to make a noise. I got him right in the neck. He just stopped in his tracks and fell forward. I came out from my hiding place and crept toward him. I looked him over once and knelt down beside him. I reached inside his jacket and took his gun, and his clips.  
"Sorry again kid." I said to him. I took a quick look around and started to go down stairs. As I reached the foot the case I stopped and took up a corner. I peeked around. Chris and Jared were talking.  
  
"You knew this guy back in high-school?"  
"I didn't really know him; I just knew who he was. I guess I should've said something sooner. He always seemed like a nice guy."  
"I've met him a few times. He said he would get in on going to Chicago with me. I never knew for a moment he was a cop."  
Jared just shrugged his shoulders and turned toward the subway. Chris turned and stared at Nic lying on the floor.  
Both their backs were to me. I peered all the way around the corner and saw another trashcan. In the future I will never look down on trashcans again. I could see Chris muttering to himself, most likely about Nic. He looked down at his watch and a look of confusion came over his face. He turned toward my direction and started to walk toward the stairs. I darted as fast as I could to the trashcan.  
Chris's upped his pace to a run and went right past me up the stairs. As soon as he was gone I came out and confronted Jared.  
  
"Put the gun in your holster." He turned around and looked at me. I had my gun aimed right at his head. He did as he was told.  
"I'm not here. Got it?" He nodded. I moved back slowly to the side of the furthest bench and kept my gun aimed at him.  
  
"Jared did you see him come down here?"  
"No." He never was a good liar.  
"So you haven't seen him then?" Chris was suspicious.  
"Nope." I saw his eyes dart over toward me.  
"Dammit," I said to myself. I saw Chris look over toward me. He nodded in an ok fashion.  
Jared's gun is holstered, Chris has his out but it is down. If I hit Chris first Jared will have to go for his weapon. I re-aimed at Chris. He was now walking toward me, he still couldn't see. I aimed right between the eyes and. he stopped in his tracks, fell forward, and that was the end of Chris. I stood up and aimed at Jared.  
"Don't even move." We just stared at each other for about a minute.  
"Do your self a favor and get the hell outta here. Go to LA and be a writer or something." He just looked at me. Un-holstered his gun, and tossed it at me along with his extra clips.  
"We have people set up outside at the entrance. Take the old track down to the Roscoe Street and go there." I nodded thanks to him jumped into the subway and took off running. As I got deeper into the subway I heard a single shot echo through the tunnel.  
  
Part 1: Ripped Apart Chapter 2: Rats Maze  
  
They knew. They all knew. And now I was public enemy number one. I couldn't help thinking of this guy I knew in high school. Elliot. I can't remember his last name. I don't even know why I thought about him. He was always asking me if I ever had the urge to move to Montana and be a dental floss tycoon. I probably should've been thinking on how I going to survive the next few hours, or how I would explain all this to Ian. But I kept thinking of Elliot.  
I reached Roscoe station about twenty minutes after I left Jefko. I jumped up onto the platform and started for the door. And there it was. The rose again. I also saw some tools on the ground. All the gates leading up to the surface had been welded shut and the tools destroyed. These guys were good. Real good. I looked down at my Swiss Military watch Dorothy had gotten me as a wedding gift. It was coming up on 9:51. I looked up from my watch and looked for the map. I didn't know the subway system to well in this part of town. The maps are usually next to the main entrance. They were gone. The cases had been smashed.  
  
My cell phone started ringing. The echo traveled for what seemed like miles. The ring scared me almost to death. I reached into my jacket pocket and got it.  
"Hello?"  
"Hi Jonny." It was Ciani.  
"Hey Tony. How's it goin?"  
"Not bad. Considering you've killed four of my men."  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Oh don't play coy with me. We know you're a cop."  
"Yeah, that's what Nic told me."  
"So you did kill him." He said it like a statement.  
"You're putting words in my mouth Tony."  
"Whatever Jon. I'll see you in hell." Then the line was dead.  
I put the phone back in my pocket when I heard it. It wasn't really anything noticeable, yet it didn't quite fit in. I looked toward the stairs and saw this gas coming out of the vent. Oh boy. I thought to myself. I looked around one last time and then ran and jumped into the subway and continued running away from Jefko.  
Thirty feet and a very large rock later I was quickly looking for a way out. I could also hear voices coming my direction.  
Like I said before, I didn't know this part of the subway real well. The voices were getting closer, and I had no way out. Roscoe station had been under reconstruction for about two years now. That might mean a work car could come this way. The voices were getting louder and it sounded like they were at the platform right about now. They had to have gas masks on. So I got into a corner and waited until they came to me.  
They came. A lot sooner then I expected. Only one of them though. I didn't recognize him. He did however have a military issue M4A1 assault rifle. Since when do they have assault rifles? I thought to myself. I unloaded the clip from my gun and checked it. Nine rounds left. That should be enough to take him out I said to myself. I made sure I couldn't be seen. The guy they sent out was a young one. Most likely no more then twenty-four or twenty-five. What a waste.  
Now I have been a cop for about ten years now, and I have seen some pretty awesome things. I've also picked up on a few things. Like the exact place on a person when if struck will cause amnesia in the short-term memory.  
The guy was really close to me now, but he still didn't see me. He made it to the end of the tunnel and was at the wall. I came out from my hiding place readied my gun and. a second later there was a thump and he was out. I knelt down beside him as quietly as I could. This guy could not have been part of the mob. I checked him for a badge or some kind of ID. He was wearing a SWAT uniform, but it wasn't NYPD. I should know I was on the SWAT team for a year. It wasn't FBI either. I quickly took off his suit and put it on over my cloths. He was about one size to small, but it would do.  
I walked back to the Roscoe platform and there were three other guys there in the same uniforms I was in. Helmets and everything.  
"Find him?" One of them said.  
"Uh. negative."  
I couldn't tell if the one who spoke was looking at me or not considering my voice was most likely different from the other guy.  
"Alright, let's move out," the leader said.  
We all filed to the doors. The leader unlocked them and we went up to the surface. As we came up I could see that the rain had let up some in this part of town. I looked around at the people there.  
All mob guys. Ciani was there. The leader went over to him and took off his helmet and they started talking. The leader looked like a police officer. Though I was betting he was out of the service. Mercenary for hire. They were the worst kind. That's when the thought occurred to me. The leader would tell Ciani that I wasn't there. And Ciani being the smart-ass that he is would call me. My cell phone was still on.  
I took a look around. I was standing near the entrance of the subway. Everybody had moved toward Ciani. No one seemed to notice me. Slowly I unzipped the front of my uniform and reached inside my jacket for my phone. I turned around and chucked it into the subway as discreetly as I could. Just before it shattered on the concrete I heard it start to ring. I looked over at Ciani. Saw him cruse under his breath, close his phone and shout at us to get the hell out of here.  
  
Everyone started to disperse. Getting into their respective cars and going home. I felt around in my various pockets and found a set of keys. I waited until everyone left, and the last car there I took. It was some late ninety's model Ford. The car had seen better times, but at least it was dry inside. The rain had let up some, but not too much.  
  
Part 1 - Ripped Apart Chapter 3 - The Ten-o-Clock Hour  
  
"When you hear Linkin Park, Nickleback, and System of A Down. you know your listening to K-ROCK, WRXK 92.3. Coming up this hour we've got the latest Dave Matthews Band, Stone Temple Pilots, and Unwritten Law. But first, a weather update. Rains are still coming down all over NYC, flood warnings are still in affect for Upper Manhattan, and the rains aren't expected to stop anytime soon. So go home and stay off the roads. Now here's some music."  
I switched off the radio, started the car and started driving. I didn't know where. I had to think. Everyone knew I was a cop. Everyone wanted me dead. The whole Manguso family. Things were defiantly not going the way I planned. I drove back over to Jennifer's place to see how things were going. Before I even got there I could see the lights through the rain. As I pulled up I looked at the spot I had put her. She was gone. Ian had got her. I looked for the rose. It was gone too. Washed away from the rain. I pulled up and got out and went over to the Sergeant in charge.  
"Any ideas?" I said. He looked me over. I still had my swat uniform on. He shrugged and nodded.  
"C4. We found remnants from the device almost immediately. Our main suspects are the Manguso's and Spagnola's. Most likely the Manguso's though. A lot like their style."  
"Did you happen to see any fresh Graffiti?"  
"One of my guys saw the remnants of a rose painted on the South Wall."  
"Thanks. Stay dry."  
"You too."  
I got back into my car and drove off. It was the Manguso's. The rose told all. Wild Rose. That name has haunted me for a year and a half. I started to replay the night in my head. Trying to piece the whole thing together. Why it had all happened? I went through the ritual al least once a day.  
Dorothy was an innocent. She had never done anything to anyone. She worked at the Times. One of there lead photographers. She took the best pictures ever. I came home and found her being murdered. The house had been torn to pieces. Nothing stolen though. And the phone call. I still didn't know who that was, but I know she is connected. I shook it off. Threw it out of my head. I kept driving down 3rd street. I glanced at my watch, 10:09. To think, this all started a little over an hour ago. I had more questions then answers. So I kept driving. Driving until I got to where I was going.  
  
I pulled up at Ciani's place of business. This was where we all reported in. It was a run-down warehouse type of place. The front of it was once a store. I parked on the side near a door and walked to the front of the place. I saw Ciani's car. He was probably there talking to Paul. Telling him that that he couldn't find me. Paul on the other end, silent, counting down till he canceled Tony.  
I walked through the front doors. The lights were on. I had never been here at night before and the lights in the old store had never really been on. I looked around. I saw a workbench and a counter, places where computers had been, shelves too. There was an old sign in the corner. Hy- something Computer Systems. Place must have been an old computer store. I would have loved too have worked there. I walked back to the warehouse. It had been divided into about two offices and a kitchen and then the main area. I pulled out my pistol and walked right into Ciani's office. I pointed the gun right at his forehead. He looked right up at me.  
"I gotta go Paul. One of my guys just came in with something. I will find him. I promise."  
I heard a mumbled response on the other end.  
"Hey Jon." He had an over exaggerated tone of voice. I didn't like it. I re-aimed my gun and shot him in the left shoulder.  
"You mother fu."  
"Shut the hell up Tony. Or you loose another shoulder. Now I want some answers." I saw the look of realization come across his face.  
"You were at Roscoe," he said through gasps of pain.  
"How high does Wild Rose go?" he looked at me with a false look of confusion.  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Don't be an asshole Tony. Tell me or you'll regret not telling me."  
"And why is that?" I re-aimed and shot his right shoulder. He screamed out in pain.  
"Tony, I thought I told you not to be an asshole," I got about two inches from his face with the gun digging into his right temple. "Now tell me." For the first time that night I saw the look of fear in his eyes. He knew I was a cop. He knew I knew how to kill people. He also knew I knew how not to kill someone, but make them suffer.  
"If I tell you, you won't kill me?"  
"I didn't say that. Besides if I don't, Paul will. Because you'll never find me, and you promised him you would. And from what I've heard about Paul, he doesn't like it when someone doesn't deliver." I saw him think. I was still in close. About 5 inches now.  
"You were with homicide weren't you?" I backed away to about four feet.  
"Very good. Then when your communist bastards came and murdered my family I went to DEA."  
"That wasn't me. I didn't send them. I didn't even know. I swear it. I only found out a day ago. The order came from high up. Way high up."  
"How high?"  
"I don't know." I pushed the gun into his head. "I swear I don't know," he screamed. His voice echoed through the warehouse. He didn't know. He was beyond the point of acting cool. He was scared now. He thought I might actually kill him. I walked around to the back of him. Made like I was going to execute him. I flipped the gun so I held the barrel in my hand.  
"Goodnight Tony. Pleasant dreams." He screamed as I hit him at the base of the neck. He wouldn't wake up for a long time. But he would wake up.  
I pulled him off the chair and onto the floor. I sat in his chair and picked up the phone. Dialed Ian.  
"Hello?"  
"Ian. You don't know how good it is to hear your voice."  
"Jon! Jesus Christ, where the hell are you?"  
"I'm at the warehouse. I got a little bit of information out of Ciani before I knocked him out cold. What about Jenn? Is she alright?"  
"She's fine. I got her at my place. She's a little shook up, but she's fine. She also isn't the insider. She read me the riot act after she came around. Where have you been all night?"  
"The subway mostly. Don't be surprised if homicide finds a few dead guys there."  
"What?"  
"Never mind. Listen. Our theories were wrong. This goes way up the ladder. The whole Wild Rose thing is way above his head."  
"Damn."  
"Listen, I'm going to keep investigating this. Meet me down at pier twelve at. um. what time is it?"  
"About 10:20. Where's your watch?"  
"Too lazy to look. Meet me at pier twelve at 11 ok? I need a phone."  
"Right. I'll be there."  
I placed the phone back on the hook. I turned around and looked at the warehouse. Saw Tony on the floor, a welt building on the back of his neck. I got up and walked over to one of the so-called offices. It was a weapons locker. Once inside I grabbed some more clips for my pistols. I had three of them. I also grabbed three clips and a silencer for the M4A1. Tony must have been ex-police or military. He always ran business that way. I made my way back toward the front of the building when I heard a car pull up. I knew I parked my car on the side for a reason. I found a hiding place so I could be there just long enough to know who the person was. I heard the front door open. I saw a figure come in. She was a woman. About five- five, with dark hair down to her shoulders. She looked very familiar. I'd seen her somewhere before. I had unfortunately outstayed my welcome. I got up from hiding and went to the side door. Once out I did a quick check around, got into my car and sped out of there.  
  
Right now my life was just like a movie. "Meet me down at the docks." Just like a movie. It took me about thirty minutes to get there. I had left the warehouse at about twenty-five after. I pulled up at pier twelve at 11:05. I got out of my car and pulled out my gun. I still trusted Ian, but I still took precaution. As I walked down the pier I could see boats lined up at the docks. I saw Ian at the end gazing out into the rain. I approached from behind. "Hey." He turned around.  
"Hey." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "Here. It's already activated. I'm the only one who has the number." I took it and put it in on of my many pockets. "Where'd you get that?"  
"Picked it up off a guy in the subway." We just stared at each other in silence.  
"I want to go home Ian." He looked at me.  
"You can. Most likely by tomorrow."  
"No, I mean I want to go home. Back to the way things were. I'm sick of my life now. I hate this."  
"I know Jon. I know."  
"I loved her. So much." He looked at me, thinking of what to say.  
"Go do your job detective." I nodded at him, took a deep breath, turned around and started walking back toward my car. I walked back down the dock. Ian just stayed there looking out toward the bay. I walked back slowly, taking my time. I didn't want to get back to killing. I had had enough for one night, one lifetime.  
  
As I walked back toward the car I saw two guys walking my direction. I still had my gun out. I walked right up to them and aimed.  
"Who the hell are you?"  
"Whoa. Calm down. We're good guys. We just wanted to see why there was a car here this late at night." The taller one spoke. I couldn't see their faces.  
"What are you doing out here this late at night?"  
"We're from that ship over there." He pointed to what looked like a research vessel.  
"You look like hell. Why don't you come on board and at least sit down for a minute. We have comfy chairs." This time the shorter one spoke. I put my gun down and looked at him.  
"Ok." I didn't care anymore. These guys could murder me and hide my body in the bay. I just didn't care.  
  
The three of us went up the ramp to the ship. We came up onto deck and immediately went down below. We walked in silence. We came to a door, and the taller one opened it. His cabin was very impressive. Very big. Like a stateroom. Immaculate. The two of them finally turned around. The tall one was about six-foot-three, with very tanned skin. He must have spent most of his time on the ocean. He had black wavy hair with gray at the temples. He had a friendly face, like he could smile anytime he wanted. The thing that got to me was his eyes. They were a dark opaline green. Friendly yet extremely cold at the same time. He had killed before, and could easily do it again. The shorter one was that. Short. About five-five, with black hair. Defiantly Italian.  
The taller one spoke. "My name is Dirk. This is my good friend Al. You are on the NUMA ship Third Attempt."  
"NUMA?" I asked.  
"National Under Water and Marine Agency," the shorter one said.  
"We're in town doing research on the marine life in the rivers around New York," Dirk said.  
"Well that should be interesting," I said, thinking about how any life could live in these rivers. By then Al had brought coffee. He handed it to me.  
"Thanks."  
"So what are you doing out here on a rainy right, in a SWAT suit and armed to the teeth?" Dirk said.  
So for the hundredth time since it happened, I told my story. I told them everything. The day I came home, the day we got the break, up until now. When I finished I just sat there. The past year and a half told in about five minutes.  
"Jesus. I don't know what to say," Dirk said. I looked down at my watch it was 11:30. The past hour and a half had been an interesting one.  
"I'd better get going. I have a lot of work to do." They stood up, shook my hand and led me out to my car.  
"Take care Jon. And good luck."  
"Thanks Dirk. You don't know how much of a pleasure it was to meet you." He smiled and the whole room lit up.  
"Give 'em hell buddy."  
"Thanks Al." For the first time in a long time I smiled. It felt good.  
  
Part 1 - Ripped Apart Chapter 4 - Into of the Darkness  
  
I drove off leaving Dirk and Al behind. I didn't know where I was going. I just stared off into the night. I reached over and turned on the radio. I caught the tail end of a commercial.  
". The Veridian Corporation. One Step Closer." Veridian has been all over the news lately. With the current state of the economy no one thought they would last, but they did. They not only lasted, they blew Wall Street away. I wasn't quite sure what they did, but whatever it was it must have been great. I reached over and turned the radio off.  
  
The rain was still coming down. Just one constant wall of water. I stared out my windshield not knowing what to do. This whole thing went much higher then Ciani. It might even go up to the top. I had to find out. I put my car into gear, took one last look in the rear view mirror and took off. I looked down at my watch. 11:57. Three minutes and a new day would begin. A new day. In three minutes my life would change again. Today I was going to catch them. I was just passing 168th street SW. This part of town was always quiet at this time of night. That's why the car behind me got me worried. How could they have known I was going this way? It had to be the insider. I looked down at the speed-o-meter. 45 miles per hour. I slowly accelerated up to 55. The car behind me sped up to match. I looked back out my mirror. He was slowly coming up on me. I looked back down at my speed. I was coming up on 60 miles per hour. And that's when he did it. He turned his bright's on. That always got me really pissed off. I reached up and flipped my mirror and jammed the accelerator into the floor. The engine suddenly jumped to life and the RPM's jumped to about seven, and my speed took off. This little Ford packed a punch. I could hear the other car speed up behind me. I checked my side mirrors and he was picking up ground. I checked my speed one more time and I was pushing about 95. We were still on 168th and just about to pass 67th avenue North when I saw headlights come on at the intersection. Then it all made sense. The guy behind me was a decoy. The other guy was going to hit me dead on. I punched the gas even more and was just pushing 120 when it happened. It was all in slow motion. The cars slowed down, the lights became brighter, and all sound was muted. I looked out my passenger window and saw him. He had a smug smile on his face, like he was enjoying himself. I felt the impact, felt the car lift onto its left side, felt it attempt to right itself, felt it roll onto its side then its back, and felt my head hit metal.  
  
They all start the same. Faded, almost foggy at first. Just a big mist floating around everywhere. You become disoriented; not knowing which way is up or down. Lightheaded. You can hear sounds, but can't distinguish them. Just sound. I looked around, trying to see anything; shapes, light, anything. They're all the same. Like you can see yourself in a third person, but still in total control. I took a step forward, and I was suddenly back in my office. Everything seemed distant though. A memory I was trying to forget. The person I was looking at looked up as another spoke to him. "Sorry Ian. I'm staying here till I get Lieutenant. Besides, I promised Dorothy I wouldn't."  
"Since when does she govern where you work?"  
"Since Marshall came. See my last cup of late night coffee. She says I am too wired when I get home."  
"That's you Jon. A real good guy. You still on for some D&D tomorrow?" "You bet. Wouldn't miss it for the world." I wanted so bad to call after him. To make him come with me. To help me save her. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Ian turned around and walked off, I packed up my briefcase and took one last look at my computer and left. I followed myself all the way home. Through the city, over the bridge, into the neighborhood, out of my car, into my house. Then it changed. I no longer saw myself, but was myself. It had never happened like this before. I could remember everything that had happened, and what was to come. I knew that the phone was going to ring. I went over and waited. It rang. I picked it up. "Listen something strange is goin." "Is this Jon Treverlan?" Everything froze. "Is this Jon Treverlan?" Who was this person? She sounded so familiar. "Veridian Corporation. One step closer." "Is this Jon Treverlan?" "Veridian Corporation. One step closer." "Who the hell is this?" "Come on Jon. Surly you can figure this out. 'Veridian Corporation. One step closer.'" Lorna Covell. CEO of Veridian Corp. Dorothy was also an investigative reporter once with the Times. She may have done a story on her. I slammed the phone down. The next thing I should've done was see the rose, but instead I walked over to her office. I had total control over what I was doing. She kept everything that had ever been published with her name on it. I pulled out a desk drawer and started looking. "Jon!" she screamed. I reached over and threw the door shut. Not this time. Her voice was now muffled. I continued my search. Getting closer to the middle of the pile when it happened. The first shot. I stopped and looked up. I was so tempted to get my gun and go blow this guy away, just as I had done a hundred times before, but I had to continue. I looked back down and kept sorting. It's amazing that I remembered all her publications. Parts of them were blank however from what I couldn't remember. I was nearing the end of the pile, with dates going back to 1999, and so far nothing. I reached the floor. Nothing. Where the hell is it? I got up and went over to her desk. The second shot had come. Without knowing I reached in my coat and grabbed my gun and ran for the door. "Is this Jon Treverlan?" I turned and unloaded my clip into the phone of the desk. "Do you really think that little fit is going to get rid of me? Come on Jon. You're close. All you gotta do it look." Three more shots echoed down the stairs. I ran back over to her desk and started sifting through papers. Tears in my eyes. Tax forms, bills, insurance, and a newspaper. A front- page clipping.  
  
"Veridian Corp. suspected for Tax fraud" The byline was Dorothy Treverlan. Dated October 17, 2002. This was only a few weeks back. She told me about this one. This was her big break. She had spent weeks undercover getting this story. I started to read.  
  
"Veridian Corp has denied accusations brought forth by the IRS. The claims were that Veridian was keeping funds in an overseas account -" I heard the front door open. Ian was here. Though I shouldn't have been able to hear that. I never heard it in the first place. I left the paper on her desk and went out into the hallway. There was no one there, but I could hear footsteps.  
"Ian!?" He became visible.  
"Jon. Aren't you supposed to be upstairs? Hasn't Dorothy died yet?"  
"How do you know about that?"  
"It's your dream. You tell me." I was at a loss.  
"Did you find the newspaper? I talked to Dorothy this morning. I told her what was going to happen and to leave the newspaper behind."  
"How did you know?"  
"Your dream." I stared at him. How did he know? I walked up to him and grabbed his coat.  
"HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW?"  
"Lorna right. Lorna Covell. Veridian Corporation Jon."  
"Are you saying that she killed Dorothy because of her article?"  
"Yes. but that's not all. Dorothy found something. Something she shouldn't have found. Something so big she didn't know what to do with it. Yes she did kill her because of the article. But now. huh. Well now. she's inv." His voice became muffled. His body became distorted; everything was turning into water. My surroundings went foggy again. It was ending. I was coming around.  
"Wake up!" My eyes opened. The color slowly returned. I reached up and rubbed my head. It was wet. My whole body was soaked. I looked up at the person who had spoke. David Blosser. I had met him a few times. He was about five-eleven with dark hair and eyes. He was thin. Not totally fit though. Everyone called him Blosser. There were two other people there. Garret Diehl. Tall. About six-four. Scars all over his face from an accident as a kid. The last was Chris Hegley. He was about six-one. A heavyset guy. He was really funny to. Always made me laugh. He was the only one who could. I sat up. My head pounded. I had the headache of all headaches.  
"Get up." I stood. My head was ready to explode.  
"Don't worry. We took all your weapons. You had a nice arsenal."  
"What are you going to do with me?"  
"Kill you."  
"Don't you want to ask me questions or anything?"  
"Nope."  
"Well then. let me ask you something." Before he could answer I asked.  
"Who tipped you off?"  
"What do you mean?" Garret asked.  
"Who told you where I was going to be? Someone had to. No one saw me." I stared at them. "I'm sure of it."  
"Why should we tell you?"  
"Just curious."  
"Don't know his last name. Just his first. Brandon." Brandon? DEA Brandon? He just made it onto my list. I stood there and just nodded.  
"Ok. Just one more. How are you gonna kill me?"  
"Ahh. that's the fun part." David spoke again. He held up my watch. The crystal was missing. He held that up in his other hand. It had been broken into a jagged edge. "With the watch you dead wife got you." He smiled and threw the watch onto the ground. It shattered. "Hegley. Hold him down." I turned my head and Chris came over to me and grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my back. David started to walk over to me. Chris leaned his head in. I felt him put something in my hand.  
"It's a knife. I think you know what to do," he whispered to me. David was about a foot away from me. Garret was about three.  
"Hold him still Chris. If you move Jon it will only hurt more." I grasped the knife with the blade facing down. Chris had let go of my hands. David raised his hand with the crystal in it. He wore a scary smile. It was almost like he was enjoying this way too much. He pulled back. His smile got even bigger. Then just like in the car, time slowed down. His arm started to come forward. My arm started to come around from my back. The two of us met halfway. I had switched the blade to the upward position. It was now sticking right through his wrist. Time was back to normal. David had a look of pain mixed with shock on his face. Garret was stunned. I pulled the knife out of his wrist, loaded it, and launched it into his throat. I walked forward and pushed him against the wall. His expression was a terrified one. I was the only thing holding David up. I pulled the knife out and he crumpled to the ground. I turned and faced Garret. He reached for his gun, but it was on a table about seven feet away. He looked at me, and then the knife. This guy wasn't very smart. He knew he about to die and yet he still went with a fight. He lunged at me. I took a step back and threw a sidekick into his throat. He fell to the ground. He didn't feel a thing. I stood there holding the knife. Blosser was still bleeding.  
"You're not gonna kill me are you?" I turned around and looked at Chris.  
"Depends. Who are you with?" He reached around to his back pocket. I readied the knife. He came back with a badge.  
"Chris Hegley. FBI." The Bureau was in on this to. A smile came to my face.  
"Jonathan Treverlan. NYPD/DEA. What are you here for?"  
"Same reason you're here. But they neglected to tell me you were here."  
"Me to." There was a silence.  
"I need my stuff back."  
"Right. Come with me." We walked out of the room. I picked up Garret's gun on the way out. We walked down a corridor of what looked like a basement. The place looked like an old office building. He led me into a small room about four doors down that had all my guns and my phone laid out. I started pocketing and holstering weapons.  
"Where are we?"  
"South Manhattan. In one of the old WTC buildings." After 9-11-01 a lot of the World Trade Center buildings had been torn down to make way for the new ones that were being built. The North and South Towers were still under construction. Though one or two of the old ones were left standing. I flipped open my phone and dialed Ian.  
"Hello?"  
"Ian. Good to hear your voice."  
"Son of. Where the hell have you been? It's 2:30 in the morning."  
"Is it really?"  
"Yes really. And don't tell me you're too lazy to look at your watch. Where have you been?"  
"I was ambushed. Kind of. More like they knew exactly where I was going to be."  
"I'm not following."  
"I know who the insider is."  
"Who?"  
"It's." The revelation hit me so hard I thought I would go under again. Brandon knew everything that was going on. He must have given Ian the phone.  
"Who gave you this phone?"  
"Brandon."  
"I'll call you back." I flipped the phone shut, set it on a table, pulled out my pistol and blew to cell heaven.  
"What the hell did you do that for?" I turned and faced Chris.  
"We have an insider in the DEA. We thought it was my undercover partner, but. it's actually my boss. Brandon. Garrett said so himself. He gave Ian this cell phone to give to me. To record everything I said, and most likely track my movements. So he knows now that I know who he really is." He stared at me with disbelief.  
"Do you have a phone?" He reached in his pocket and pulled one out.  
"Here." I took it from him and dialed Ian again.  
"Ok."  
"Jon. If you don't tell me what's going on I'm pulling you off the case."  
"Brandon is the insider."  
"Right." I looked over at Chris. He understood. I handed the phone to him.  
"Ian?"  
"Who is this?"  
"My name is Chris Hegley. I'm an undercover FBI agent. Whoever this Brandon is, he is your insider. I've seen and met him myself."  
"Are you sure?"  
"About five-eight, black hair, Italian?"  
"Put Jon back on please." He handed me the phone back.  
"If you see him tonight why don't you have a little chat with him. I'm calling everyone in. Call me in a few hours. Good luck Jon." I looked at Chris.  
"He's pissed."  
"No doubt."  
"I'm gonna take off. I need a car."  
"Right." He turned and walked out the room. I followed.  
  
He led me down another corridor. This had been and office floor. There were doors leading to rooms that innocent people had done a days work in. He stopped at a door and turned to me.  
"Just a sec." He went in. I turned and looked down the corridor. There were only a few lights on. Just barely enough light to see three feet ahead of you. The atmosphere had a damp feeling to it. This place was really depressing.  
The door behind me opened. Chris came out holding a phone.  
"It's one of those two way radio phones. Call me if you need anything." He also handed me a set of keys. "When you get up top, third on the left. And go get some coffee or something." I starred at him for a moment.  
"Thanks." I reached out and shook his hand. "I'll be in touch." I turned on my heel and walked down the corridor toward the elevator. This whole operation turned completely around in one night. It went all the way up to the top. Paul himself knew about everything. And there was Lorna Covell. How was she involved? I had too many questions and not enough answers.  
I reached the elevator and went up, got in the car on the third to the left, and drove away.  
  
Present Day April 20, 2004  
  
Part 2 - Hidden Truths Chapter 1 - Out of the Darkness.  
  
". raining out. Storms are expected to continue into this evening. The time is 2:40 AM. You're listening to 93.9, WNYC." I reached over and turned the car off. I was about four miles from the World Trade Center, when I saw an all night diner. I reached in the back and got my handgun and put in inside my SWAT jacket, turned back around and looked out the windshield. The rain was still coming down. It seemed like it was never going to end. I opened the door, pushed the lock button, got out, and shut it. The rain immediately soaked my uniform. I took one look around the parking lot. There was one car besides mine parked. The streets were empty. Everybody who was sane in this city was home in their beds, sound asleep. I turned back toward the diner. I walked up the steps and to the door, and pulled it open. A wave of heat hit me like I was walking into a sauna. I reached up and unzipped my jacket and pulled it off. All I had on underneath was a bulletproof vest and my original t-shirt. My gaze went up to the counter. There was no one there. I went over and put my jacket on the back of the chair and sat down. While I sat there, I checked the place out. It was supposed to resemble a 1950's style place, except no one had been keeping up on the maintenance. The lights were fading, and one in the corner was flickering. The upholstery on the booth seats was in okay condition considering the lack of care that went into the building. The counter had endless coffee stains on it, as well as other things. Everything in here was old. This was one of those places that if someone breathes on it wrong, the whole thing will just collapse.  
I reached over and grabbed a menu. I opened it up and started looking.  
"How 'bout a cup of coffee? You look like you need some."  
I looked up. She was a brunette. Long hair, but put up. She was about five-seven with deep brown eyes, and a nice face. She had dark brown skin suggesting a Latino descent. She stared at me smiling.  
"Well?"  
"Coffee? Yeah. Coffee would be great."  
"Great. I just made some. Fresh off the pot."  
She turned around and made her way to the coffee maker and poured me a cup. She grabbed a saucer, and brought it back over to me.  
"Cream?"  
"No."  
I picked up the cup and inhaled the aroma. It was the best thing I had seen in the last few hours. I took a sip. The coffee flowed through me, renewing my strength. It seemed to make everything right.  
I set the cup down on the counter. When I let go, there were bloodstains on the handle. I turned both my hands palm up and looked at them. The blood from Blosser was still on them. It was still wet. I closed my fists, and looked up at the waitress. She was staring at the cup.  
"Where is the bathroom?" She looked up at me.  
"Right over there," she said as she pointed to the far-left corner of the room. I got up and made my way.  
"Keep that coffee coming." She finally looked down in the cup. It was half gone.  
  
I pushed open the door to the men's room. It was small. A glorified closet. There was a mirror above the sink, and a toilet. The sink was stained a rusty color in some spots. I reached over and turned on the cold water, followed by the hot. I stood over the sink, looking in the mirror, letting the water warm. The face that stared back was scary. There was a nasty gash on my forehead where I had hit the side of the car. There were bruises on the other side from where Blosser had had some fun with me. After staring for a minute I finally put my hands in the water and started to wash them. Not too soon after the water turned crimson red, and my hands returned to their normal color. The water was starting to get to hot, and I reached up and turned it down some. I cupped my hands under the running water and splashed my face. I looked back up into the mirror and watched the droplets fall. Some were clear some were red. I grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and dried off my face and hands. I took one last look in the mirror, and walked back into the restaurant.  
  
There was another cup of coffee waiting in my spot when I sat down. This one lacked the dark red stains. The waitress came back over and pulled out an order form.  
"So what's for breakfast?" I looked at her. Breakfast? I looked down at my watch and was sorely reminded that it was gone.  
"I suppose it is the AM isn't it?" She stared at me. I picked up the menu again and started to look.  
"Just a burger will be fine." She took down my order on her pad and walked over to the window.  
"Jack, I need a burger."  
"Five minutes." She turned back to me.  
"Five minutes." I picked my cup and took another sip of coffee. As I set is back down she was still staring at me.  
"Is there something I can do for you?"  
"You look like you've been through hell."  
"You're not far off."  
"You wanna talk about it?" I looked at her shaking my head.  
"No." I took another sip.  
"You sure?"  
"Am I sure I don't want to talk about it? Yes."  
"Come on. I'm board. I've been stuck here all night. I need something besides Jack to keep me going." I stared at her for a moment.  
"Ok. You really want to hear this?"  
"Yeah."  
"I used to work for NYPD homicide. A year and a half ago, November 18th to be exact, I came home from work and found my wife and newborn son being murdered. They were killed by some guy high as a paper kite on Wild Rose. After that I transferred to the DEA. I've been on the Rose case since, and tonight everything is coming down. The family has found out who I am and I am public enemy number one. There's an insider at my office who is tracking my every move trying to get me killed faster. On top of that, this asshole named David Blosser almost killed me with the watch my wife gave me for a wedding present, and that really pissed me off." She stared at me with a blank look.  
"For the last year or so, my life has been hell. My life was turned upside down by a gunshot." My eyes drifted down.  
"All I wanted was for us to be happy. It shouldn't have ended like this." My eyes came back up, and I looked at her.  
"So that's my story. Now I suppose this is the part where you feel sorry for me?"  
"You used to watch Sports Night. Didn't you?" She didn't feel sorry for me. It seemed like she didn't even care. We stared at each other.  
"High as a paper kite. Dan said that in one of the episodes. I loved that series. It's too bad they canceled it." By then she realized that I was staring at her with a crazy look.  
"I just told you my whole story about my wife and son being killed, how everyone is out to get me, and all you can talk about it Sports Night?"  
"I think that enough people have felt sorry for in the last year. Maybe you just need someone to." she paused to think. ". talk to. Just a friendly person to talk to about anything you want." This girl was smart. Very smart.  
"Anything I want?"  
"Anything."  
"I did watch Sports Night. I loved that show. It was so good. The writing was incredible."  
"I know. It was a very intelligent show."  
"That's probably why they canceled it. People for the most part didn't get it." We stared at each other again.  
"See. Now don't you feel better? You just got to talk about something other that death, the mob, or work for the first time in a long time. How did it feel?"  
"It felt nice. Really nice." Right then a bell from the back rang. Jack put my burger on a shelf for the waitress to get. She turned around and grabbed it and gave it to me. I reached over and grabbed the salt and lifted the bun. As I was salting my burger I looked up again.  
"I don't mean to be rude, but are you going to watch me eat?"  
"I had planned on it."  
"It's a pet peeve of mine. I can't stand it."  
"Ok." She stood up and grabbed a book. Judging by the cover it was an action mystery novel. She sat down on a stool and turned to the page she left off on and started reading. I put some ketchup on my burger and took a bite.  
I would have to remember this place. It had some of the best food I had ever tasted. It was that or I just hadn't eaten in about forty-eight hours. What ever it was, this tasted good, and for the moment I felt good.  
I was in the middle of another cup of coffee when the phone Chris had given me beeped. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. The waitress looked up from her book and looked at it for a moment and went back to her reading. I put it up to my mouth and pressed the button.  
"Chris?"  
"Jon?"  
"Yeah."  
"That Ian fellow called me. Hold on, I'll put him through." I sat there holding the phone, chewing on a French fry.  
"Jon?" I switched modes and put it up to my ear.  
"Ian. What's up?"  
"You sound a lot better then you did before."  
"A cup of coffee and a hamburger will do that to you."  
"I hear you. Listen, I got a hold of Brandon a few minutes ago. I didn't really let on to what we know. He is at a posh party on Stone Street, by Battery Park. Address number is 5. Why don't you drop in and have a drink."  
"Sounds good. I'm leaving here in a few minutes. By the way, what time is it?"  
"Um, about three. Why? Don't you have a watch? The one Dorothy gave you?  
"Not anymore." There was pause.  
"I'm sorry."  
"It's ok. I'll talk to you later." I pulled the phone down and terminated the call. I put the phone back in my pocket, and picked my burger back up. I took two more bites and pushed the plate away. The waitress looked up, put her book mark back in and put her book down. She came over to me.  
"Was it good?"  
"Outstanding. Thank you. How much do I owe you?"  
"On the house."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah. It's no problem."  
"I got a party to crash. But don't worry; I will be coming back here. The food is excellent." I got up from my chair and put my jacket back on. I gave her one last warm smile and turned to walk out. My hand had just touched the door when she spoke again.  
"Lorna is the key. You're almost there. Just keep looking. Everything's right in front of you." I turned back around and stared at her. I didn't speak for a moment.  
"Thanks." I turned back around and pushed the door open. A chill hit my skin and gave me goose bumps.  
"Wait! Don't you want to know how I know that?" I turned back around, still holding the door open, and looked at her. My eyes went down to her nametag.  
"Listen Cathee," a look of surprise came over her. "Five hours ago I might've cared. Not anymore though. The only reason why I haven't said 'fuck this,' is because I'm going to get the son of a bitch, or just bitch, who did all this. This isn't about the job anymore. It's vengeance. I'm going to bring. them. down..." I stared at her expecting a reaction. She stood there a moment, and then walked around the corner towards me. I turned all the way around and let the door shut. She walked over and stood in front of me. She came up to about my eye level. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, and then put her arms around me. My arms slowly came up and embraced her. We stood there for a moment hugging, until she let go. She stared up into my eyes.  
"You have very pretty eyes. I'll bet Dorothy told you that a lot." I looked at her and nodded my head yes.  
"Cathee Cappaso. Undercover FBI." I shook my head.  
"You guys are everywhere tonight."  
"We make it a point to be. You'll probably run into a few more of us."  
"Thanks for the heads up."  
"Cappaso, sounds Italian."  
"My father. My mother is from Cuba."  
"Must be good food." She giggled.  
"Go get 'em Jon. Then come back here and get another cup off coffee. I'll have a fresh pot brewing. And next time I'll sit with you." She smiled at me. I smiled back and turned around, pushed open the door, and walked out to my car.  
  
The rain hit me again. It immediately soaked my front side. I walked up to the driver door and put in the key to unlock it. The lock clicked and I pulled open the door. I slid into the front seat and started the car. It wasn't a far drive from where I was. I put the car into gear and pulled out onto Thomas Street. I got to the light at Broadway and made a left. I kept on to Exchange Place and turned left on Broad Street. As I turned onto Stone, I switched off my lights so I could not be seen. Stone was one of the only places in this part of Manhattan that had apartments. These were the expensive ones. I pulled over at about the middle of the street, and turned off the car. I reached in back and got another handgun and my assault rifle. I opened the door and cocked and locked my weapons, holstered them, and made my way up to number five.  
  
Part Two - Hidden Truths Chapter Two - . and into the light  
  
There were people out on the front balcony, drinking their expensive champagne and eating their expensive caviar. I could see lights coming from the back of the building as well as hear conversation. The side of the building was covered in shadows from the lights coming from the front and back, as well as windows along the exterior. I made my way through the yard on the left side of the building and up to the left side of the apartment. I found a side door that led into a sub-basement. I pulled out my Berretta and attached the silencer to the barrel. I tried the door once. It was locked. I aimed the barrel at the lock of the door and fired off one round. I pulled my gun back and pushed open the door. The sub-basement was dimly lit, and there were wine shelves along every wall. The ceiling was about six feet tall and my head just barley cleared it. There was a single light bulb in the middle of the basement. I made my way across the room to the stairs when someone started to come down.  
"You want the '95 sauv?" There was a muffled response from above.  
"Alright. I'll get it." The man came down. He was dressed in a tuxedo. One the nicer ones I've seen. It was a five button down black jacket with a silver vest and tie underneath. Both had black patterns on them. The tie was one that I had never seen before. The top of it was very wide, with a depression in it. He was about five-ten with straight brown hair, slicked off to the side in a very corporate way. He came down with an air of elegance about him. He reached the foot of the stairs and turned the corner. I stood there staring him right in the eyes. He looked right back at me. I had my Berretta holstered.  
"And just who the hell are you?"  
"That's none of your concern. Though I will have to ask you for your tux. Oh and also where the bathroom is."  
"What makes you think I'm going to do what you say?"  
"If you wait patiently for about twenty minutes I will return it, most likely in relatively good shape."  
"What do you need it for?"  
"I need to crash the party."  
"Really?"  
"Look. I'm not going to hurt anyone. I'm not going to kill anyone." I paused to think. "Well maybe one person."  
"Who?"  
"It doesn't matter."  
"Why it that?" I stared at him for a moment. It was looking like I had to do this the hard way. I reached down to the butt of my rifle and spun it up into the firing position. I pointed it right at his chest.  
"Listen. Don't make me shoot you. Stop asking questions and give me your tux. You'll have it back soon anyways." By the look in his eyes, he was considering my proposal.  
"You won't kill me?"  
"No," I said in a sarcastic tone. He looked at me then started to unbutton his jacket. He had just uncuffed his shirt when I saw a glint of silver.  
"Your watch. How many of those do you have?"  
"Four."  
"Ok. That I will steal from you. Only because mine was kinda stolen from me." He looked at me and looked at the watch.  
"You're lucky that this isn't the one my wife gave me." He took it off and tossed it to me. I caught it and put it on. The time was 3:25. It was a very expensive designer watch. One of the kinds I had seen a million times in magazines and always wanted. I stared at it for a second and then took of my SWAT jacket. By the time I was dressed up in the other man's tux it was about five minutes later.  
"You know looking like that you'll be kicked out."  
"Where are you with that wine James?" The voice came from up stairs. I looked at him.  
"Answer him." He looked at me.  
"I'll be up in a moment."  
"Alright. I will be in the kitchen." There was a few seconds pause.  
"Like I said before, you'll get kicked out looking like that."  
"Where's the guest bathroom?"  
"Up stairs to the left, third door on the right."  
"Thanks James." I grabbed my shoulder holster I had, had on and swung it over my shoulders. I picked up one of my handguns, the one with the silencer and holstered it. I grabbed the jacket off a wine barrel and put it on. I walked over to my pile of old clothes and grabbed my cell phone. I looked down and buttoned the jacket up to the top. I looked up at James.  
"Well?" He looked at me for a moment and walked over to me. He reached up and fixed my tie. He took a step back and looked me up and down.  
  
"Not bad, except for the face."  
"Yes, well I aim to take care of that. Oh if you're cold feel free to put my clothes on. Mind the jacket though. There is some blood on it. It's not mine." A scared look came over his face.  
"It was in self-defense." He nodded at me and started to get dressed. I picked up my assault rifle and other handgun and put them between two of the shelves. I made my way to the stairs and turned around and looked at him.  
"Stay out of site please. It would be bad if someone caught you."  
"Thanks." I took one step up.  
"Wait!" I turned and looked at him. "Who are you?"  
"Promise you won't tell?" He nodded "Jonathan Treverlan. DEA." I turned back and walked upstairs.  
  
The party was just getting into full swing considering it was 3:30 in the morning. I came up from the basement into a small room with an open door at the other end. I stepped out of the doorway and into a hall. On one side was a solid wall; on the other was the stairs. I walked slowly to the end of the hallway to where it opened up into main room. There were couches and chairs set up with two long tables of food, and at the very end was a mini bar. There was a full orchestra playing themes from John Barry, sounding even on the strings and bass. I quickly made my way around the corner and up the stairs. The carpeting on the stairs and as well as the rest of the house was a deep burgundy. It was very cushy which meant it was very expensive. I got up to the top and stood up straight. The pants were about half an inch too short. Everything else was fine. I made my way to the left until I found the third door on the right. I entered and found the most elegant bathroom I had ever seen. There were towels and washcloths everywhere; there was also a bench in the left corner as you entered. A very expensive chandelier that hung from the ceiling lit the room. The counter-top was made of what appeared to be real marble, and the sinks were expensive porcelain. I took a step in and closed the door. I made sure the lock was turned before I started.  
I made my way over to the first sink and took off my jacket. I threw it on the corner bench. Then I took off my tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt. The bathroom was fully equipped for any guest. It had everything from hair gel, to shaving cream (for men and women) to women's accessories. I picked up the shaving cream and put some in my hand. I lathered up my face, cleaned my hands, and picked up a razor. This was one of the best shaves I had ever had. There were no cuts. My face was so smooth. I grabbed one of the many towels and cleaned off my face. I looked around some more and found some after-shave. What the hell I thought. I splashed some on my hands and rubbed it into my skin. Next I grabbed some woman's makeup and started to cover the cuts and bruises. I ended us using up about half the container. I managed to cover up the bruises almost completely, but the cuts were a different story. I found a pack of band- aids and ripped off the sticky parts only. In all I put on about four strips to completely cover the gash on my head, and then I started to put the makeup on again.  
I put the makeup pad down and lifted my gaze into the mirror. The sight I saw amazed me. I looked human again. Clean-shaven and no marks. After watching Dorothy put on makeup for years I kind of caught on a little bit. I studied myself in the mirror and determined that one more thing was needed. My eyes dropped to the counter again and began searching for the hair gel. I grabbed the bottle and a comb and went to work. When I was done I looked completely presentable. I buttoned up my shirt and put my tie back on. I rechecked it in the mirror and then grabbed my coat and put it on. I left it unbuttoned and checked to make sure my gun was hidden, turned toward the door and walked out.  
I walked down the stairs with an air of confidence about me. If I blew this now it was all over. I had yet to see Brandon, so I went over to the mini-bar.  
"Yes sir?" Sir. I hadn't been called sir in a long time.  
"Jack on the rocks." The bartender nodded and grabbed a glass, filled it with ice and poured the drink. Once he was done he handed it to me.  
"Thanks," I said, smiling at him. He simply nodded. I turned around and took a sip. The liquid seemed to burn everything in its path, but it felt so good at the same time.  
The room was large. The main room of the apartment. Almost like a ballroom. There were people mingling at different corners. Some were sitting on the couches some were standing around tables. I spotted Brandon standing with a group of people close to the kitchen. They were standing, all sipping drinks. With mine in one hand, and the other hand in my pocket, I made my way over to their table.  
  
I approached from behind him. He was about five-five with black wavy hair. He wore glasses and didn't look like a cop. He looked like the type of guy who had a huge collection of video games and Magic cards at home. You would never guess he ran the DEA New York division.  
"Now granted, it took me a few years, but I eventually got the Jag," Brandon said.  
"You mean you actually worked for it?"  
"Well I did alter a few things here and there. A few figures every once and a while. Oh, but that car is so sweet." The anger grew within me.  
"I had a Jag once; I traded it for an Aston. Now that is a nice car," said one of the other guys.  
"Oh that's nothing gentlemen," they all turned toward me, "now it was no Aston or Jag, but it was the best Accord money could buy. It even had a CD player. That was a sweet car." They all stared at me. None seemed to have any idea what and Accord was.  
"Jon?" A look of surprise came over Brandon's face. I finished my drink and set it down on the table.  
"Excuse me gentlemen, but if it's no trouble I would like a word with Brandon."  
"No problem." They all sensed the tension in my voice, turned and left. There was just the two of us standing there.  
"Hi Brandon."  
"Hi Jon," he said with surprise in his voice. "How can you be here? The last I heard you were at the docks, meeting Ian."  
"Did you hear the Jenn's building was bombed last night?"  
"Yes, that was very unfortunate."  
"Did you also know that the place you sent me to meet Ian was just across the street from her place?"  
"Most likely a coincidence."  
"See that's what I thought at first to. By the way have we gotten anywhere on the insider?"  
"Our main suspect is still Jenn." I shook my head.  
"Well the three of us have come up with another theory."  
"The three of you?"  
"Yeah. You." For a moment his eyes showed fright. As quickly as it came it was gone.  
"I don't know what you're talking about." I looked around the room.  
"You know, lets continue this someplace else. A little more private."  
"I'd prefer to stay here." I reached around to scratch my back, exposing my gun.  
"Up the stairs. Move." He turned around and started to walk.  
We reached the foot of the stairs and he turned and looked at me.  
"Third door on the right." He turned and walked to the bathroom. He opened the door and went inside. I entered behind him and drew my weapon. I kicked the door shut with my foot, reached around and locked it.  
"All right Brandon. Lets talk."  
  
"You have nothing against me."  
"You gave Ian the phone to give to me. Otherwise how did they know where I was going after the docks? You also told Blosser about my watch. About how much it meant to me. So he used it against me. Right now I don't give a good goddamn about how much evidence I have against you. I'm going to give you two options right now. Either tell me everything you know and you live, or. well let's just say that there are a lot of things worse then death."  
"You don't scare me Treverlan. Never have and never will. You won't kill me. You need me."  
"Why is that?"  
  
"You'll never know anything if you get rid of me." I walked over and pushed the barrel into his forehead.  
"Tell me everything. Tell me now." He stood there silent. I stared him in the eyes. He was fearless. This was going to be more difficult then I thought. Then I had an idea.  
"You're right handed. Right?" He raised his eyebrows. I brought the gun down to his right shoulder and fired. The blood splatter was contained by the shirt, vest, and jacket. He didn't scream, but he muffled a moan, and dropped a little.  
"Correction. You were right handed. Right now, your shoulder is completely destroyed. You know I had to write learn with my left hand once. When I broke my right arm. That was years ago though." A tear started to come down his face.  
"Tell me everything." He still looked at me. He didn't answer. He wanted to play difficult.  
"You know, in extreme cases, people have learned to write with their feet." His eyes got wide. I re-aimed and pressed it against he left shoulder.  
"Last chance." His eyes showed thinking. I started to squeeze the trigger.  
"Wait." I cocked my head to the right.  
"Ok." He thought for a moment.  
"Goodwin. Chris Goodwin. He knows everything. But he's working under someone else."  
"Paul?" I said calmly.  
"I don't know." I started to squeeze the trigger again. It squeaked a little. He looked me right in the eye.  
"I don't know. But it's not Paul. Paul is left out of all the major activity. He just coordinates the distribution. There's someone else." "Lorna Covell?"  
"I don't know. I've never seen the person. I just get my orders from  
Chris." He was telling the truth. I released the trigger.  
"Why did you try to kill me?"  
"You weren't supposed to get above Ciani. He didn't know anything. He was supposed to lead you astray."  
"It didn't work. Did it?"  
"Ciani was idiot. He didn't do what I told him."  
"They found out I was a cop through you?"  
"Yeah."  
"They knew where I was when they set up the car accident because of you?"  
"Yeah."  
"The watch?"  
"So that in a way, Dorothy would've killed you. I always liked her Jon, and you stole her from me. She was supposed to be mine. Now we finally can be together. In hell that is." He smiled. I pushed the barrel of the gun into his left shoulder and fired off two rounds. He fell to his knees and despite the pain tried to raise his right hand to hold his shoulder. He looked up at me with hate in his eyes. I walked over and reached into his pants pocket and grabbed his car keys. I stood and turned around to walk out.  
"I'll see you in hell Jon. Then the three of us can go out to lunch." I stopped and reached for my phone. I dialed Ian. The phone picked up.  
"Jon?"  
"Ian. I got some news." My voice was quivering. I turned around and aimed the gun at Brandon's chest.  
"You've been promoted." I unloaded the rest of my clip into him. Bloodstains started to form around the holes in his shirt and jacket. He fell back and lay on floor. Motionless.  
"What the hell was that?"  
"I'll call you back." I walked over to Brandon lying on the ground. He was still alive. Barely. I knelt down and whispered into his ear.  
"I'll look down on you from time to time while the two of us are having lunch." He looked at me and then closed his eyes.  
  
Before I left the bathroom, I checked myself in the mirror for blood. Confident there was none I made my way back down to the party. I made sure the door was locked to the bathroom so no one would get in for a while. I walked down stairs and got another drink. I casually made my way down the little hallway between the stairs. I went into the little room and closed the door and went into the sub basement. James was sitting on a barrel in the corner.  
"Did anyone come down here?" I asked.  
"Two people looking for me."  
"Did they find you?"  
"No."  
"Excellent."  
"So did you crash the party?"  
  
"Nope. Just got a couple of drinks and had a conversation with a friend of mine. By the way, don't go in the bathroom."  
"Ok." He gave me a look.  
"Give me minute and you'll get your tux back."  
"Keep it. I got three more upstairs." I paused taking off my jacket. I stared him in the eyes.  
"Wait a minute. You own this place?"  
"Yeah." My eyes went to the ground.  
"You're the host?"  
"Uh huh." My eyes came back up.  
"Well then, I'm sorry to inconvenience you. Also you might want to hire a cleanup crew for your bathroom. Brandon is in there."  
"You killed him?"  
"He deserved it. Had it coming."  
"Ok. Mr. Treverlan. I don't mean to be a rude host but I have to get back to my party. I like you Jon. I don't know why though, considering you left a dead body in my bathroom. Stop by sometime. We can do lunch. I can help you." He got up and moved toward the stairs. I went and got my other guns, grabbed my vest and made for the door.  
"Mr. Treverlan?" I turned back. "What if I call the cops?"  
"You won't. You knew Brandon. You knew he deserved what he got." I turned and walked out into the night  
  
Part Two - Hidden Truths Chapter Three - The Man Riding Shotgun  
  
I walked out to Brandon's car like nothing had ever happened. It was a rare XJS V12 Jaguar. It was all supped up to go-fast and look neat. I clicked the button on the remote and the doors unlocked. I pressed another button and the trunk popped open. I walked over and threw my guns in. I stood back and took off my jacket and put on my bulletproof vest. I folded the jacket neatly and put it in with the guns.  
Pack up, change names, leave town. That would've been the smart thing to do in my case. This night I wasn't very smart. I walked around and got in the car. The interior was leather seats and custom woodwork. The whole car spelled expensive. I put the key in the ignition and started it. The engine rumbled to life. It had a smooth purr to it, but also sounded like it could match speeds with a Corvette very easily. I put my foot on the clutch and put the car into gear and took off.  
  
Chris Goodwin was the Don's right hand man. He was always there at his side. He owned a building of apartments in Central Manhattan, the real bad part of town. A place consisting of drugies, dealers, and prostitutes all looking for buck, and doing what ever they can to get it. Ian's apartment was about five miles from Goodwin's place. Just outside all 'border' of Central Manhattan. I changed direction and drove to his place. The clock on the dashboard was glowing. It was four-o-clock and still raining out.  
  
I parked the car in the parking garage and locked it. I went to the trunk and grabbed my coat. After I put it on I checked the doors one more time and went over to the elevator. As the doors were closing I caught I glimpse of Ian's car pulling in. The doors shut and I pressed the "6" button. The elevator hummed to life and started to bring me up. The building was new but the elevator saw a lot of action. The old elevator chugged all the way up to six and sighed as if grateful. The doors opened and I walked into the corridor. The place was well lit with nice carpeting laid out. Ian's door was almost to the end. Ian was always bragging about how new his building was.  
"Three years. Can you believe it? Only three years old."  
"Yes Ian. You've told me this a hundred times before."  
"And it gets better every time doesn't it?"  
I reached his door. Number 613. Normally I would have the key, but my keys were at my apartment over in New Jersey. I raised my hand up and knocked. Jennifer would be there. Thirty seconds went by and nothing. I knocked again and waited. Ian would be up any second now. He could always let me in. Suddenly the door flew open. I lifted my gaze and was staring into the barrel of a gun. I raised my eyebrows.  
"I save your life and threaten to shoot me?" Her eyes grew wide and a smile grew across her face.  
"Jon!" Her face turned into a look of confusion. "What happened to you? You look great."  
"Went to a party. Had a few drinks. It was really nice. I had a nice chat with Brandon."  
"What did you do to him?"  
"I." My voice was cut off by another from down the hall.  
"Those were gunshots weren't they?" The voice was that of Ian's. Ian was at the elevator. He came running down to his door.  
"Gunshots." He paused and looked at me. "What the hell did you do to yourself?" I started to answer. "Never mind. Get your ass in there." The three of us went into his apartment.  
"'You've been promoted!' You killed him didn't you?"  
"He had it coming Ian. You know it. I know it." I looked at Jennifer and looked back at Ian. "Jenn knows it."  
"Did you at least get anything out of him?"  
"Goodwin. Apparently he's the number two man in this. He didn't know who the top person was though."  
"Well it's Paul right?" Jennifer said.  
"I don't think so. I don't think Paul knows as much as we think he does."  
"The fact of the matter is. you killed him. He was a prime witness. Our only one and you killed him. Goddamnit Jon. I know you're pissed off and all but." I rushed towards him and pushed him against the wall.  
"You have no idea what I've gone through Ian. You have know idea how pissed off I am. That goddamn asshole deserved what I did to him. AND I WILL NOT REST. until I have my vengeance." He stared at me.  
"Is that what this has come to Jon? Vengeance? Vengeance won't bring her back Jon. Nothing will." I looked him in the eye and pushed away from him. I started to pace the apartment. Jennifer and Ian watched me.  
"He told me everything. I got it all. We didn't need him anymore."  
"That's not the point."  
"Then what is? Huh? The guy was a traitor. He was trying to kill me. Nobody seems to care about that."  
"Not true Jon." There was silence for a minute.  
"I'm going after Chris. I'll have my phone on me." I started to walk toward the door and stopped halfway. I turned around and looked at him.  
"I need your keys."  
"To my car?"  
"Yes to your car."  
"Why?"  
"Because if I go into Central Manhattan in a Jag it will be copped within five minutes."  
"Well what about my car? I like my car."  
"Who would want that piece of crap?" Jennifer laughed.  
"I would for starters."  
"Don't worry. I'll take care of it." He thought for a moment and reached in his pocket and threw me his keys.  
"There better not be a scratch on it."  
"You mean like all the other ones." He sneered at me and gave me the finger. I put his keys in my pocket and pulled out my weapon. I ejected the clip and checked it. Empty.  
"You got any clips?" He rolled his eyes at me and went over to a desk. He opened the bottom left drawer and grabbed two magazines and threw them to me. I checked them over really quick and put them in my coat pocket. I looked over at Jennifer.  
"Call if you need us," she said. I nodded at her, turned to Ian and made a quick salute and walked out the door.  
The down button on the wall lit up as I pressed it. The machinery came to life as the elevator came up. I stood there facing the double doors, thinking about what I had to do. If Chris were the main man in this then that meant plans would have to change a little. The doors opened and I got in. I pressed the "G" button. The car started to go down to the garage. My phone started to ring. I reached in my coat and got it.  
"Hello?"  
"Jon? It's Cathee."  
"Hi." It was nice to hear her voice again.  
"Listen. We just got a call from Paul Manguso. He wants to talk to you."  
"How did he know I was working with the FBI?"  
"We don't know. But we think you should call him."  
"Why?"  
"We want you to bring him in."  
"You want me to. I don't work for your people. Why don't you send in one of your guys in to get him? If I bring him in. well lets just say that he won't exactly be alive."  
"Normally we would. The only problem is he's killed all our undercover agents except for Chris. So bring him in any way you want. Doesn't matter to us."  
"That doesn't sound like the FBI to me.  
"It's not. This is me talking. He killed someone I care about. About a year ago.  
"I'll talk to him." I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up. The doors opened and I walked out to Ian's car.  
  
It was a mid ninety's Honda Civic. Beat up and scratched up from years of use. I stopped over at the Jag and got my other guns. I unlocked the door to the Civic and sat in the driver's seat. I pulled my phone back out of my coat and dialed up The Don.  
"Yes?"  
"Put The Don on." The man on the other end thought for a second.  
"Hold on." I was put on hold. I sat there staring at the concrete wall through the windshield. The line clicked back to life.  
"This is Paul Manguso." I gave a slight laugh.  
"Paulie." There was a pause.  
"Treverlan. You're a dead man."  
"Everyone keeps saying that." I didn't give him time to respond. "Listen. You know it would be much appreciated if you actually tried to kill me. I'm starting to get rather board."  
"Oh is that so. Well I'm sorry that I haven't been providing much of a challenge for you. If you want, I could up it a little bit."  
"You know what. Let's do this. I'm going to stop by someone's place really quick and have a little chat, then I'll come over and we can sit down and figure out how to really run a mob family." I paused to let it sink in. "Oh by the way. Your friend Brandon? Yeah he's dead. I uh. I killed him. All that aside I gotta run. I'll catch you later Paulie."  
"Treverl." I clicked the line dead. Pissing off Manguso was probably not the smartest thing to do. Right then I didn't care. He would get his soon enough. I threw the phone down on the seat and started the car. I pulled out of the parking garage and made my way into Central Manhattan.  
  
I was about a block away from Chris's place when the explosion happened. The third floor of the building blew out, shooting glass and debris in an eighty-foot radius. Pieces of the building were starting to fall with the rain around me. A piece hit the hood of Ian's car.  
"Woops." I smiled.  
Out of the smoke and flames a car drove out. A black Lincoln. The car slowed down as it started to pass by me. I recognized the man-riding shotgun immediately. He was Johnathan Maldonado, leader of the local Puerto Rican mob. The car came to a stop and so did I. The driver side window rolled down. I put down mine.  
"You Jonathan Treverlan?" His accent was strong.  
"Yeah."  
"You have business with Chris Goodwin?"  
"Yeah." His gaze dropped and he nodded. He looked back up.  
"Come see me when you're done. I think you know where I am. We should talk."  
"Alright." The driver's window went back up and the car sped off. I pulled forward and parked on the side of the building. I reached over, grabbed my phone, got out and went inside.  
  
Part Two - Hidden Truths Chapter 4 - A City Wide APB  
  
The crescendo of the fire alarms echoed off the walls of the first floor. The tenets of the building were in a rush to get out, and I had to push through them. The smoke from the third floor had not reached the first yet and it was still easy to breath. I stopped a guy who was carrying a bottle of rusty liquid, most likely Wild Rose.  
"Where is Chris Goodwin?" He looked me up and down.  
"Why the hell should I tell you?" In one quick motion I reached out and grabbed the bottle of liquid and held it above the ground.  
"Because without this stuff you'll die." The look on his face changed from confident to scared.  
"Ok. Ok. He's upstairs. Fourth floor. The Ricans messed up on the floor that they blew up. Room number 406."  
"Thanks." I tossed the bottle up in the air and he just barley caught it. He tucked the bottle under his arm and ran out of the building. I went to the stairs at the end of the hallway. I opened the door and went up.  
  
The lights in the stairwell were flickering from the blast. Water was dripping down from holes in the roof and a large hole on the third floor. With every step I took the stairs creaked even more. I got to the third floor and where there was supposed to be a door there was nothing. The entire third floor was ablaze, and the ceiling was starting to buckle. The hole in the sidewall was about the size of a small bolder. The building shaking had created it. The rain was still coming down outside, but you could still see the city. The sirens from the fire trucks had not yet started, but they would soon. There was some damage to the structure of the stairs, but they were still climbable. I kept walking up until I got to the fourth floor.  
I pushed open the door and immediately heard a voice yelling either at someone or into a phone. It was Chris. I reached in my coat and pulled out my gun. The floor was hot. I started to walk towards the door when I remembered I still had the band-aids on my head. I reached up and took them off. About two lights lighted the hallway. Pieces of the ceiling were falling off because the top of the building was shaking a little. It was going to cave in at any moment. I walked over to his door and opened it. He was standing at a desk talking on a phone, yelling at someone.  
"Get someone the hell down here. No damnmit I don't want to wait." I aimed at the phone and fired off a round. It disintegrated.  
"Get the phone Chris." He looked up at me and smiled.  
"Jon. What's up?" I kept my gun aimed.  
"Nothing much. What did you do to piss off Maldonado?" He shrugged.  
"Wild Rose production is up by about twenty percent. It's taking customers away from him. By the way, I heard you're a cop. That true?"  
"Yeah. DEA actually. Been working undercover for a year and a half."  
"How's that working out for you?" I was still aiming at him.  
"Not to bad. The working conditions aren't great. And right now people everywhere are trying to kill me. That kinda sucks a little bit. There is one cool thing though. You see I killed my boss tonight because he was an insider and trying to kill me, and I stole his Jaguar." I looked down really quick and back up again. "Oh yeah, he told me that you were the number two man in this whole operation. What's that all about?"  
"It's true. I do practically run this business. Paul doesn't do shit. He just sits there and takes all the profits and looks good. But it's really me. I do everything. She tells me what to do and I do it."  
"Who?" He smiled.  
"Why should I tell you Jon? You're a cop."  
"I'll kill you if you don't."  
"You're going to kill me anyways."  
"Damn. You got me there." The building shook. The third floor supports were starting to give out.  
"Come on Chris. Tell me. Is it Lorna or not?"  
"Well since you guessed. Yeah it's Lorna. But Paul carried out the murder of your wife and son."  
"How did you know about that?"  
"I'm the number two man remember? It's called delegation. She told me to do it. I told Paul to do it. I'm not in the business of killing innocents. He got really excited when he got the assignment." When he said that the anger in his face came to the surface. As soon as it was there, it was gone.  
"But you just said you just found out I was a cop."  
"Jon. Come on. You know me by now. I know everything."  
"You do have a knack for that." He smiled.  
"So how are we going to do this Jon?" I kept looking at him, considering all the options. I really didn't want to kill this guy.  
"Have you taken Wild Rose?" He laughed.  
"Hell no. Do you really think I'm that stupid?"  
"Ok. Here's what we're going do. Get out of the Wild Rose business. Take the money and run."  
"You're not going to kill me?" I shook my head.  
"Nah. I've killed enough people tonight. I don't need anymore then I have to on my conscience."  
"Cool. That sounds good. Listen; give me call if you need anything. No wait. You shot my phone. How 'bout this. I'll call you."  
"Here's my number." He stopped me.  
"I already got it." He smiled. I lowered my gun and holstered it. He reached under his desk and pulled up a duffel bag and opened it. He looked inside really quick and then at me.  
"There's about eight hundred fifty thousand in here." He tossed the bag at me. It nearly knocked me over. "Don't worry about me. I got enough. You take care Jon." I nodded at him and turned and walked out.  
He turned out to be one of those classic bad guys. The one's with class to them. The smart one. I had planned on going in there to kill him and was walking out with a huge bag of cash. I tucked the bag under my arm and walked down the stairs. Almost all the tenants had run out into the night. I stepped out the sidewalk and the rain was still coming down. I walked over toward Ian's car and opened the back driver door. I threw the bag in back and got in the front. Maldonado's hide out was on the Jersey side. I started the car and looked down at my watch. 4:45. I reached over and turned the radio on.  
". name is Jeremy McCall. We have breaking news this hour. NYPD/DEA Director Brandon Ritchie has been found killed at the home of James Schell, the multimillionaire from Boston. A city wide APB has been put out for the prime suspect Jonathan Treverlan. Reportedly Schell's bathroom had been locked from the inside and upon forced entry Ritchie's body was found. When Schell approached Ritchie's body he found, spelled out in blood Treverlan's last name. We'll brief this story again at the top of the hour. For WNYC I'm Jeremy McCall." The numbers on the radio glowed. I switched it off.  
"Son of a bitch," I yelled. I exhaled. "Damn it." The bastard had told all. Now the police were after me. I reached in my coat and called Ian. "Jon?" "Ian. We got a problem. I've been." He cut me off. "I've heard." "And?" "We'll figure something out. But damn it Jon, the next time you kill someone, at least make sure they're dead first." I rubbed my forehead and exhaled. "Fuck you Ian." "Yeah. Whatever." He hung up. I turned the car on and put it into drive. I pulled out onto the street and started to make my way toward New Jersey. I was three blocks away when Chris's building fell in on itself.  
  
Part Two - Hidden Truths Chapter Five - A Few Hundred Bullets Back  
  
I crossed the bridge into the Jersey side. It was a completely different world on this end. It was actually nice here. Neighborhood's covered in trees and nice families, dogs playing, children laughing.  
I pulled off the main road and made my way to my apartment. I passed house after house until I got to the one. Our house. The house that a nice family used to live in. A house that was bought on a cop's salary and new dreams. Dreams that were shattered in one moment, frozen in time.  
I passed by it and pulled into my parking lot about five minutes later. I parked in my spot and got out. My car had been in the shop for about a week with a faulty speedometer unit that needed replacing. I looked at my watch. Five-o-clock. I made my way up to my apartment. When I got to the front door I reached under the plant at my windowsill and grabbed a key. I unlocked the door, put the key back and went inside. It was an average size place. It had about twelve hundred square feet. One bedroom, kitchen, and a living room that had my entertainment system that I still never used. I had no pictures up of anyone in the place. The only one was a picture of Dorothy right next to my bed. She looked over me every time I slept. I walked in my bedroom and took off my coat. I grabbed my cell and extra clips and tossed them on my bed. I hung the coat in my closet. I took off my shoulder holster and let it fall to the ground. The tie came off with a slight pull, and I took off my shirt. I sat down and took off my shoes and socks and placed then by my night table. I looked up at the picture of Dorothy and picked it up. We sat there staring at each other for a minute when I put her down. I stood up and went into the bathroom and started the shower. When I stepped in the hot water seemed make everything go away. I sat down in the shower and lay down and went to sleep.  
  
This one started different. In this one I was seeing in first person from the start. I was standing in our office in our home. Papers still scattered everywhere from when I had been here earlier. I turned toward the door and Ian was standing there. I walked up to him.  
"I'm sorry I killed Brandon." He smiled at me.  
"No problem. We'll figure something out." He disappeared. I walked out into the living room and switched on some lights. The room lit up and it was just like I had remembered. I looked around at all the pictures on the wall. Most of them were of things Dorothy had taken. She was so good. The pictures on the fireplace were of our wedding. We were married in Arizona at Bryce canyon. October 7, 1997. We looked so happy. I turned away and started to go upstairs. There had been no screams yet. No sound. I reached the foot and went into Marshall's room. Everything was as it had been. Everything was neat. I walked over to his crib and he was lying there asleep. I reached down and ran my hand over his face. He made some baby sound and rolled over. I looked at him and smiled.  
"Jon? Is that you?" I turned toward the door to our room and Dorothy came out.  
"Hey baby," she said.  
"Me or him?"  
"You're both my babies." I walked over and put my arms around her. She looked into my eyes. I leaned down and kissed her. When we stopped she spoke.  
"You know this is just a dream. That in a minute you're going to wake up."  
"I know." I leaned down and kissed her again. We kissed for what seemed like forever until I felt the hot water again. My eyes opened and I sat up. I looked at my watch. It was 5:45. I reached up and grabbed some soap and washed off, and washed my hair. I turned off the water and got out. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself and walked out into my bedroom. The rain was still coming down. I stood staring out the window when my phone rang.  
"Hello?"  
"Jon. Good." It was Chris Hegley.  
"What's up?"  
"What's with this ABP on you? Did you kill him?"  
"Yeah. I don't know what I was thinking."  
"All that aside. Where are you?"  
"Home."  
"Are you insane?"  
"Nope. Everyone else in the world thinks I live in the city. There is an apartment under my name there. It's owned by the DEA. They won't be looking for me here."  
"And where is here?"  
"Jersey."  
"Ok. Have you talked to Cathee at all?"  
"A few hours ago. She wants me to bring in Paul."  
"Ok. That sounds good. Call if you need anything."  
"Yeah." I hung up and threw the phone on the bed. I walked over to my closet and grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt. I went back and put my shoulder holster back on and grabbed a leather coat. I checked myself in my mirror, grabbed my phone and extra clips and put them in my pocket. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed an apple and Ian's keys and my keys and left.  
  
I started the car and pulled out onto the road. Maldonado operated out of a house in Jersey City. Right across the river from New York. I lived in Bayonne so the drive wouldn't be too far. I got onto West 29th Street and turned onto JFK Boulevard. I kept going until I got to Duncan Avenue. My memory was racing through the numbers I knew until I got the right one. I turned left of Duncan and went down to Freeman. The house number was 180. The black Lincoln was in the driveway. I parked the car and got out. When I got to the door John was standing there.  
"Buonas díaz Mr. Treverlan. Care for some breakfast?" He had a smile on his face, like he was happy to see me. I looked down at my watch. It was 6:10.  
  
The house was very immaculate. Expensive furniture, big televisions, computers, the works. John led me into the kitchen where a pan of eggs was cooking on the stove. The smell was enticing. Bacon was cooking in the oven.  
"How do you like your eggs?" I looked up from the stove.  
"Scrambled well. Burnt to a crisp." He smiled.  
"Just the way I like them. There's some juice in the refrigerator. Help yourself."  
The kitchen was huge. There was a big island in the middle with a small sink in it. On one counter there was the stove with the oven and a toaster. Above the stove was a microwave. The other counter was an "L" shape. First was the refrigerator, then the counter curved, there was a pull up glass compartment that help spices, and other assorted kitchen things. Above that was a cabinet. When the counter curved again, there was the double sink. Next to that was empty counter space with cabinets above and a spice rack mounted beneath. Right beneath the counter was all the pull out drawers that contained silverware, and home tools.  
"You have a nice kitchen here."  
"Thank you." I walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. The front of it was a paneled wood to match the rest of the cabinets. Inside there was milk, juice, leftover food, and food waiting to be cooked, or eaten. I stood there looking. There were about four kinds of juices.  
"What kind of juices are these?"  
"Orange, cranapple, pineapple, and a homemade Guava juice with a hint of Tequila." The tequila one intrigued me. I reached in and pulled it out. I shut the door, and turned around.  
"Where do you hide the glasses?"  
"Third to the left of the fridge." I looked for the cupboard and walked over to it. Inside were expensive crystal glasses. I reached in and grabbed one. As I set the glass down to pour John spoke.  
"Pour me one to, would you? It's the tequila one right?"  
"Yeah."  
"Yeah. I could smell it."  
I grabbed another glass and poured them. I put the juice away and found a seat at the breakfast bar.  
"So what did you want to see me for?" He was still cooking the eggs.  
"I can help you Mr. Treverlan."  
"Help me with what?"  
"With your crusade of course." I raised an eyebrow. He looked at me.  
"I wouldn't go as far to say it was a crusade."  
"Call it whatever you want. I can help you in the end."  
"How so?"  
"For example, I can make that APB go away."  
"By bribing the police no doubt. I know how it works. I work for them remember."  
"No Mr. Treverlan. I don't like bribing. It comes back to haunt you. I prefer favors. I do something for them, and they do something for me. There are a lot of law officers that owe me some favors. When you're." He paused thinking of what to say. ". movement is over; I can make it so that nothing happened." He stopped to let it sink in.  
"Why?"  
"Wild Rose is bad business. Bad business for everyone. Bad for me. bad for you." He paused. "I want this out of the way as much as you do." I raised an eyebrow.  
"For some reason I doubt that. You want it out of the way, because it's taking your druggies away from you."  
"That's one way of looking at it."  
"What's another way?"  
"I'm just a man trying to make a profit."  
"Yeah, and I'm just a man trying to kill every mob person in the city. That's a bunch of crap."  
"Then go on. Continue killing everyone in your way." I thought for a moment.  
"I suppose you're right. This whole thing got old a few hundred bullets back."  
"So you're in?"  
"Just as long as no one can connect me to anything. Or to you either." He smiled.  
"Then we have an agreement. Oh, and breakfast is served." He came and put a plate in front of me. I looked down at it. It was covered in eggs and bacon. The first home cooked breakfast I'd had in a long time. I looked back up at him.  
"Thanks."  
  
Part Two - Hidden Truths Chapter Six - The Killer was Smiling  
  
I finished my breakfast and John and I talked some more. He told me about how his family had immigrated from Puerto Rico in the 30's. He asked me about Dorothy and my family. I told him how everything had happened. I told him how I was undercover for the DEA and that I would keep things down low with everything concerning his case.  
"So, are you going after Paul?"  
"Yeah." He looked down at his watch. I glanced at mine. It was a few minutes before seven.  
"Well good luck." I simply nodded, got up, and left.  
  
I got back in the car and started to make my way back to the city. I reached over and grabbed my phone and dialed Ian.  
"Hello?" It was Jennifer.  
"Hey Jenn."  
"Jon. Where are you?"  
"Jersey. I had to meet with someone."  
"How did it go with Goodwin?"  
"Good. It turns out that Covell is the leader of the operation. Paul is just there for show. It was Chris and Lorna who ran the operation."  
"Did you kill him?"  
"Did I kill him? No. But he's most likely dead."  
"How?"  
"The Ricans bombed his building. They blew out the third floor. Almost right after I left the building caved in on itself. I don't think he got out."  
"Well that's good right?"  
"I don't know. He really wasn't that bad of a guy." I neglected to tell her about the eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars he had given me.  
"Where's Ian?"  
"He's in the shower. He might be out. Hold one." I heard the phone clink on a table and then there was silence. I kept driving. The rain had let up to almost a light drizzle, but the skies were still a dark gray. More rain was coming.  
"Jon?"  
"Hey Ian."  
"Hey. What'd you get from Goodwin?"  
"Covell is leader. Paul is just there for show. But, I'm going after Paul before I go after Lorna. The FBI wants me to bring him in."  
"Dead or alive?"  
"I think in his case it will be dead. Goodwin told me that he carried out Dorothy's execution. We're going to have a little chat."  
"Did the FBI approve that?"  
"Yeah." There was a pause on his end.  
"Alright. Call if you need anything."  
"So you're still pissed at me?"  
"Yup." I nodded my head.  
"Fair enough."  
"Do me a favor. Don't get yourself killed." I smiled. He could be angrier with me more then anything in the world, but I was still his best friend.  
"No problem." The line clicked dead.  
  
I took the Holland Tunnel into the city and made my way back to Ian's apartment. The rain had started to pick up again and the morning commute was running slow. To pass the time I flipped the radio on.  
". police are still on the search for suspect Jonathan Treverlan. His last reported sighting was about two hours ago, apparently heading into New Jersey. NYPD along with the county Sheriff's office is conducting a citywide manhunt. Treverlan is described as 5' 11" with brown hair and brown eyes. His weight is about one hundred ninety pounds, and he has a gash on his forehead from a car accident late last night. If anyone sees this man, they are to inform the NYPD immediately. This man is considered armed and dangerous, so stay away from him unless absolutely necessary. We will recap this story at the top of the hour. This is WNBC news." I reached over and turned down the radio. Traffic had started to let up and I was moving again. I turned my head and looked at my phone. I picked it up and dialed.  
"Hegley."  
"Chris? It's Jon."  
"Jon. What's up?"  
"Who gave the description?" He thought for a moment.  
"NYPD. About an hour ago."  
"Was it NYPD or the DEA?"  
"What are you getting at?"  
"NYPD or DEA?"  
"NYPD. They have a file on you."  
"Yeah, but who knew about the gash on my head?"  
"I. I don't know?" I thought for a moment.  
"I'll call you back in a minute."  
"Alright." I disconnected and dialed Ian.  
"Hello?"  
"Ian? Who gave the description?"  
"What, of you?"  
"Yeah."  
"NYPD."  
"How did they know about the gash on my head?" I could almost hear him thinking.  
"You think I told them?"  
"No, of course not." He was thinking again.  
"Ok. I'll look in on it and give you a call back." I nodded.  
"Sounds good." He disconnected. I dialed Chris again.  
"Hegley."  
"Chris. Remember Garret?"  
"Yeah."  
"Was he dead?" He thought again.  
"I don't know."  
"See what your boys can pull up on him. I have a feeling he's not dead, and that he's more then he seems."  
"Ok. I'll be in touch." The line went dead. I was about to set it down on the seat when it rang.  
"Hello?"  
"Jon. What's up?" It was Goodwin.  
"Chris? You're alive?"  
"You sound surprised."  
"Well, your building collapsed. I didn't think you made it out."  
"Well obviously I did. Where are you?"  
"On my way to pick up my car. What can I do for you?"  
"After that are you going to see Paul?"  
"Yeah. We're going to have a little talk."  
"Mind if I tag along?"  
"Why?"  
"I was responsible for the distribution of Wild Rose. I'm responsible for its popularity. And I got none of the credit. I'm not saying I'm gonna kill him. You obviously have a bigger grudge against him then I do. I just want talk to him." I considered it.  
"Meet me at his place at," I looked at my watch. 7:15. "Twenty till."  
"I'll see you there." The line clicked dead and I tossed the phone on the seat.  
  
I could see Ian's building looming out of the rain. When I got there, I pulled into the parking garage, and parked in his spot. I got all my stuff out and transferred it to my Jaguar. After everything was in, I went up stairs to his apartment. I walked down his hallway to his door and knocked right next to the 613 on the door. Jennifer opened up.  
"Jon!" She smiled. I smiled back.  
"Where's Ian?"  
"Sleeping." I nodded.  
"Ok. Give these to him." I handed her his keys. "I gotta run. I talk to you later." I turned and walked back to the elevator.  
  
I started up the Jaguar and immediately felt better. I backed out of my space and pulled out into traffic. It was coming up on twenty-five after and the traffic was picking up. I made my way through the city not really paying attention. I passed by Third and Broadway, Jennifer's apartment was still partly intact. It was funny to think that this whole thing started here. I kept driving and came up on Jefko station. A few more blocks more and Roscoe came up. I drove past trying to forget the events that had occurred the previous night. My car rolled down the street, passing person after person. Everyone on their way to their various jobs. Accountants, lawyers, doctors, teachers. I was none of them. I was the one no one wanted to be. The killer and I only had two jobs left.  
  
I pulled up at The Don's house at seven thirty. In about another fifteen minutes his crew would show up to conduct the daily business. The day would begin. My fifteen minutes was coming up. I got out of my car and put a hip holster on and put a weapon in it. Inside the back was my assault rifle. I grabbed it and slung it over my shoulder. I went to the trunk and got all the clips I would need and made sure they were fully loaded. I put them in various pockets and locked up the car. Another car pulled onto the street. It came up behind mine and turned off. Chris Goodwin got out and walked up to me. I could see him better in the natural light. He was about six feet with flattened brown hair. He had the beginnings of a goatee on his chin. As far back as I can remember it was always like that. He was wearing brown cargo pants and a brown long sleeve shirt. There were cuts and bruises covering him. The man had no more emotion left in him. No feelings, no remorse. The hate in his eyes was beyond all comprehension. This hate had only been seen once before by my eyes. November 18th. I looked into the face of this man who had killed many times. The killer was smiling.  
"Let's do this."  
  
Part Three - The Things That Make Us Human Chapter 1 - An eye for an eye  
  
We walked together in silence. Two men, one common goal. Eliminate the enemy. Each of us was armed to start a small war. Handguns, assault rifles, even a few grenades. We walked together to the back of the house. One, a cop with nothing to lose, the other, seeking credit where credit was due.  
I had been to The Don's apartment once before. It was an immaculate place on the lower west side of Manhattan. He owned the whole building and lived on the top two floors. The rest of the building was offices, conference rooms, kitchens, and places for his guests to stay. We came to an open door in the back that led down to the basement. We stood at the entrance for a moment. Staring straight ahead. Without looking at each other, to confirm or deny, to back down or not, we started down. Seven thirty-five in the morning.  
  
The basement was lit with natural light coming in from the windows. A depressing gray was cast along the walls and ceilings. We came down into a small side room that had nothing in it. We both went up to the far wall with the door and pressed our backs to the wall right by the edge of the exit. From where we were we could here voices.  
"Peak your head around." Chris turned and looked at me, then slowly looked around the corner. When he came back he was smiling.  
"Two of them. One on your side, one on mine. Having a smoke." He thought for a moment. "Silencers." I nodded at him and reached in my coat and grabbed my silencer. As I tightened it I turned back to him.  
"I'll take the one on your side. You take the one on mine." He nodded as if to say 'I'm already ahead of you.' He looked at me.  
"On three." I nodded. "One.two.three." We both came around our corners and took aim at the base of the neck. Before the sound of my gun hit Chris the guard was on the ground. A millisecond later the other man dropped. Again without looking at the other first, we walked into the main room of the basement. The blood from the two guards was starting to pool on the floor and we stepped around it. We made our way to the foot of the stairs. I turned and stared at him. "Good luck." He just stared at me. After a moment he smiled.  
"We don't need luck. We just go in there and do the job." I nodded.  
  
We made our way up the stairs. I holstered my handgun, and brought up my assault rifle. It was my M4A1 that I had gotten the subway ten hours earlier. I checked the silencer at the tip and switched it to single fire. Chris checked his clip on his pistol and reached in his pocket and brought another one into better grabbing distance. We made our way upstairs and come out into a pantry. I was expecting an open room. My thumb came up from the trigger of my rifle and switched it to burst fire.  
"I'll take point." He nodded and reached over and grabbed my gun out of my hip holster and readied it. I turned back toward the door and grasped the knob. It squeaked slightly when I started to turn it. I turned it the rest of the way. The door lock released and it started to swing on its hinges. I pushed the door open slowly and peaked my head out.  
We were in the main kitchen of the building. The stoves and other appliances were still cold because it was not yet time for breakfast. The lights were out and the only light came from windows on the far right. I turned back to Chris.  
"The kitchen. It's empty." He nodded. I turned back and pushed the door open the rest of the way. Chris and I stepped out into the cold dark room. Seven forty-four.  
  
We made our way across the kitchen to the door that led out to the rest of the first floor. Chris looked over at me and I nodded. He reached over and grabbed the doorknob and I readied my weapon. He silently counted to himself and on three he threw open the door. The next room was empty. Two for two. I quietly stepped into the room and looked around. It was a large open place. The former lobby of the apartment. It had been converted into a reception area. There were tables, and furniture set up in a very casual way. The former reception desk had been converted into a bar. On the right wall there was a hallway that led to some offices and rooms, and also the elevator.  
"What floor is Paul on?" Chris looked at me.  
"His penthouse is on the top floor."  
"Anything that will get in way?"  
"His security system."  
"Is it controlled on the premises?"  
"Yeah. By his computer network."  
"When does he wake up?" He looked down at his watch. I looked at mine. Seven forty-seven.  
"In about fifteen minutes. His 'advisors' will be here any second now."  
"Can you get me to a computer?"  
"Yeah. Why?"  
"Because I can hack his system and disable his security." His eyebrow rose.  
"Ok. I think I know where one is." He motioned for me to follow him to one of the rooms down the hall. We entered the second door on the left. The elevators were on the right another two doors down. I went over to the computer and sat down. It was at a login screen. I looked at Chris.  
"You're the number two man. What's the password?" He smiled and leaned over the keyboard. He typed d-r-g-n-h-r-t-1-7.  
"Dragon heart 17. I'm not sure what it means, but it is something important to him." The computer logged in and the main screen came up. I brought the mouse over and clicked on the 'Network' icon. A new window came up showing all the computers in the building. They had names like conf1, conf2, 1stflr1, 2ndflr4, 7thflrbyp.  
"Look at this one." I pointed to 7thflrbyp.  
"What about it?"  
"Well it means seventh floor something."  
"There are only six floors in the building." I smiled and clicked on it. A window popped up that said 'Level 10 clearance only. Enter password.' I looked at Chris again.  
"You know this one?" He thought for a moment, and then shook his head.  
"No idea."  
"Who would?"  
"Most likely one of his 'advisors.'"  
"You said they're due any second?"  
"Probably all ready here."  
"Could you get one for me?" He smiled.  
"I'll be right back." He turned on his heal and walked out of the room. I turned back and faced the computer. There was a music file open on the taskbar. I click on it. The music program came up and the song was Linkin Park, In The End. I hit the play button.  
"I had to fall to loose it all, but in the end it doesn't even matter." I closed the program. The song was right. It the end, it didn't matter. I turned around from the computer and faced the door waiting for Chris to come back. I sat there not thinking about anything.  
Five minutes later he came back in with an 'advisor' at gun point. I got up and Chris shoved him over to the terminal.  
"Type in the password!" Chris shouted.  
"Go to hell!" Chris walked over and grabbed the lobe of his ear and put the barrel of his gun up to it.  
"Type it!"  
"No." Chris sighed and fired. Two things happened. One, the guys ear lobe disappeared, and the guy reached for his ear. His hands never made it. Chris grabbed them and put them on the keyboard. Blood was spilling over the guy's suit and he was crying.  
"Type it," Chris said calmly. The guy put his hand on the keyboard and typed in the password. The screen changed and some folders appeared in the window.  
"What is it?" I asked. In between sobs he told me.  
"09031977." I stared at him.  
"Why did he use that number?"  
"I don't know." I set down my rifle and reached in my coat and grabbed my pistol. I flipped it over and held it by the barrel. As I walked over to the guy he reached up to what was left of his ear. He never felt the gun hit him. I threw him out of the chair and sat down. I accessed the security protocols and after a minute disabled the entire security system.  
"That was quick," Chris said. I looked at him.  
"Let's go." I turned and grabbed my rifle and walked out of the room. Chris followed. I walked over toward the elevators. The "UP" light lit when I pressed it. The machinery came to life as the car came down. When it got down the double doors opened and we stepped in. I reached over and pressed the "6" button and the doors closed. The machinery came to life again and we went up.  
  
The double doors opened and we stepped out into a lush apartment. We were in the living room that had expensive Italian furniture and flat screen televisions, and a nice stereo system. The living room branched off to the kitchen and a private home office. There was a hallway that led to the different bedrooms of the houses. We walked over to the hallway and started down. We passed by a baby's room. I stopped and went in. Inside there was a crib set up with a young child in it. I looked at Chris.  
"I didn't know that Paul had a kid."  
"He used to be married. He offed his wife because she was flirting too much with someone. They're both in the Hudson somewhere." I turned back toward the child.  
"I'm sorry." I turned back and walked out and down to Paul's room. The door was made of solid oak. Heavy. Sound proof. I turned the handle and walked in.  
  
Paul was sleeping in his bed in the middle of the room. The whole place consisted of a massive dresser with a whole vanity set up above it. The room opened up into a bathroom the size of my apartment living room and an entertainment center in the far corner. I turned to Chris.  
"Does he sleep with anything?" I whispered.  
"What?"  
"A gun. Anything like that?"  
"No. He keeps it in dresser." I half smiled. I walked over to his bedside and aimed my rifle right at his head.  
"Paul!" I whispered.  
"Paul, it's time to wake up." He stirred in his sleep. I glanced to the side and then back again.  
"PAUL!" I screamed. His eyes shot open and he looked at me. After the shock wore off his eyes became wide.  
"Treverlan? How the hell did you get in here?"  
"Like I'm going to answer that." He lay there. "I told you I would come by and we could talk. So I'm here. Let's talk." His eyes wondered over to Chris.  
"Yeah ok. You can talk to him first. I think what I have to say is a little more lengthy. Go ahead Chris." He walked over to the opposite bedside.  
"Hi Paul."  
"Hi Chris."  
"I'll bet you know why I'm here."  
"I have a feeling."  
"I'm going to ruin you Paul. Your name, your assets, everything. I'm going to sink it all. None of this would have to happen if you had only given me some credit for what I did." He paused for effect. It worked. "You know, it's said that only after people die, which by the way, Mr. Treverlan here is going to take care of, that they become famous. History will remember them forever. Look at Al Capone. Everyone knows who he is. And I'll bet that's what you thought would happen." He shook his head. "It's not. I'm going to make sure your legacy dies with you in this bed." He looked at me. "Ok. Your turn Jon." I looked down at Paul.  
"Watch the door." He turned and walked over to the door and stood with his back to the door.  
"So. Paulie. You have a few things to learn about trying to kill someone. To bad you won't be around to learn them." He looked at me. "How old is your son?"  
"Almost a year."  
"Really. That's how old mine was when he was killed. By the way, I heard you were the one who carried out the operation." He kept looking at me. "How could one person be so heartless? I've asked myself that time and time again. You send someone in and you stand by as an innocent woman and child are killed. I guess what it boils down to is, I hate you. I hate you more then anything in the world. And now I'm going to kill you. Slow and painful. You left me without a son. I'm going to leave your son without a father." There was no fear in his eyes. "Not afraid huh?" He smiled.  
"You can kill me, but my legacy will live on. There's nothing you two can do about it. You two are pathetic. Nobody's. There's not a damn thing you can do." He looked at Chris and smiled. "My assets are safe. No one can trace them." I reached in my pocket and dialed Cathee.  
"Hello?"  
"Cathee. It's Jon. Listen, I need you to access a bank account for me."  
"You got a number?" I smiled and looked at Paul.  
"09031977." His eyes got wide.  
"Got it. It also has a ton a sub accounts, assets, everything. Whose is it?"  
"Hang on a sec." I put the phone on speaker. "Ok. Destroy them."  
"Hold on. Ok. They're gone. Everything's been distributed to banks around the world. The assets have been totally liquidated."  
"Ok. I'll call you back in a minute." Her end clicked dead. I turned off my end. Paul was staring at me.  
"How?"  
"Doesn't matter. One thing though. Why that number?" He looked at me with a strange look.  
"I wanted her. I watched her for a long time. She took beautiful pictures." I turned to Chris.  
"Lock the door." He turned around and locked it. I took the silencer off my rifle. I took a step so I was even with his stomach area. "Burn in hell Paul." I aimed at his mid-section and fired off three rounds. He screamed in pain. Blood started pouring out onto his sheets, turning them from white to crimson. His hands came up and he grasped his stomach.  
"Give it about three minutes. Until then you will know what pain really is. You'll know what I've gone through for the last year and a half." I turned and started to walk to the door. Chris turned and started to unlock it.  
"I. I still. still would've. done it anyway. I. still." He gathered his last remaining strength. "I still would've killed her." My head lowered. I turned around and jumped up onto his bed and stood over his chest. I brought the gun down and aimed at a random area. The trigger squeaked as I pulled it. Bullet after bullet came out of the gun and in the time that only a physicist can define the bullets entered into his body. Twenty-seven shots later the gun was clicking. It the time it took for my watch to tick three times the gun was empty. Twenty-seven holes put into his body. Blood coming out of everyone. Holes ranging from his neck down to his lower abdomen. His eyes were wide open and sightless. They were looking at me. One down, one to go. Eight-o-five in the morning.  
  
Part Three - The Things That Make Us Human Chapter Two - From Bad to Worse  
  
"Hello?"  
"It's done."  
"He's dead?"  
"Yeah."  
"Ok. We'll clean up from here. Just get out of there and lay low for a while. I'll call later."  
"Ok. Take care."  
"You too." The line clicked dead. I put the phone back in my jacket.  
"Who was that?"  
"An FBI agent. She and a team are on their way over here to clean up." We were standing in Paul's room. "How can we get outta here?"  
"There's a fire escape under the balcony." I slung my rifle over my shoulder and nodded.  
"Then let's get the hell out of here." We went over to the doors at the balcony and opened them. They led out to the side of the apartment. There was a view of the skyline from out here and it was very peaceful. I went over to the side and peered out to the front. Our cars were still there, but there were also about ten others. On the side facing the back of the building there was the fire escape.  
"Come on Jon!" I went over and started to climb down. About half way down someone came out onto their balcony.  
"Who the hell are you?" He was one of Paul's 'advisors.' There was a woman in the main room.  
"Chris! Silencer!" Chris looked up and tossed the pistol with the silencer on it up to me. Time again seemed to slow down as the gun came up to me. I caught it and aimed. There was a slight light puff of smoke and he was dead. I looked down at Chris. "We better get moving." We climbed down faster and we were one floor down when the woman screamed.  
"Shit!" Chris yelled. When he got just below the second floor he jumped to the bottom. He looked up at me. I was on the second floor. "Jump!" I released my grip and fell the rest of the way. I hit the ground and went into a shoulder roll. The rifle dug in as I rolled. When I finally stood up Chris was already running to his car. I took off after him. I holstered my handgun and flung my rifle around. I ejected the clip and reloaded. As I cleared the front of the building the front door opened and four men came out. Chris, who was still ahead of me, opened fire at them. He only had a pistol though. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a grenade. He pulled the pin and loaded his arm.  
"Fire in the hole!" He threw the grenade and it bounced off the side of the building and exploded. It took out two guys and blew a hold in the side. Ten more men came out and started firing at Chris. I readied my rifle and opened fire. Before any of them knew what was going on, six were down. Then they realized where I was and returned fire. I took off in a run again and headed for my car. In the distance I could here sirens from the FBI cars. I kept firing until the gun was empty, and when it was I let it hang from my shoulder. I grabbed my pistol and opened fire again. The original four were dead and nine of the ten were dead, but more were coming out. Chris was at his car and had already unlocked it. His door was open.  
"Chris! Cover me." He reloaded and started shooting. I reached in my pocket and grabbed my keys. I pressed the button to unlock it and then the button to remote start the car.  
"Fire in the hole!" He launched another grenade and it took out a piece of the lawn. I opened my car door and jumped in. Chris was in his before the grenade hit. I grabbed the gearshift, threw it into first and jammed my foot into the accelerator. The engine roared to life and the car took off. Bullets were flying all around me, and I soon over took Chris's car. I was driving down the road and had backed off at about sixty miles per hour when my phone rang. I reached in my coat and grabbed it.  
"What?" I screamed.  
"That was fun!" He laughed.  
"Chris! Where are you?"  
"About a mile behind you. Slow down." I let my foot off the accelerator and pulled into a parking lot.  
"I'm in a parking lot on the right of the road. You can't miss it." He clicked his phone off and I clicked mine. I turned off the ignition and sat there. Thirty seconds later Chris pulled up and got out of his car. He came over to mine and got in the passenger seat.  
"Hey." I looked at him.  
"Hey." His eyes got wide.  
"Whoa. Have you looked at yourself?" I reached up and adjusted the rearview mirror and looked at myself. There was blood splattered all over my face. Little specs of red were covering my white shirt.  
"I know a place we can go to clean up. You gonna follow me?" Chris laughed.  
"Nope. I'm going with you." I nodded.  
"Ok." I started the car and put it into gear. I grabbed my phone and called Ian.  
"Is Ian up yet?"  
"Yeah."  
"Tell him I'm coming over with someone. I'll be there in ten minutes." I disconnected and pulled back onto the street and drove to Ian's place.  
  
I knocked on his door. Number 613. We waited a few seconds until the door opened. It was Jenn.  
"Hey Jon."  
"Hey." We walked into the apartment. Ian was sitting at his computer. I looked at him.  
"You still pissed at me?"  
"Yeah."  
"Ok. By the way. This is Chris Goodwin." He turned around and looked at him. He got up and walked over to us.  
"Paul dead?"  
"Yeah," Chris said. Ian started to reach for his cuffs that weren't there.  
"Ian, don't." He looked at me.  
"Don't what?"  
"He helped me. He helped us. He got me into the apartment, got me the passwords and everything."  
"Doesn't change the fact that he is the number two man in the whole Wild Rose operation, not to mention the number of people he's killed."  
"Listen. We just need a place to clean up and then we'll be outta here."  
"You got ten minutes." We stood there staring each other down. I finally turned and went to the bathroom.  
  
I came out about five minutes later with a new shirt I was barrowing form Ian. I walked back out to the living room where Ian was back on his computer, Jenn was sitting on the couch and Chris was standing by the door. I stood in the hallway thinking.  
"Ian. Come here." He turned and looked at me. I raised an eyebrow. He sighed and got up and came over to me. I turned around and walked in to his bedroom.  
"What?"  
"I understand that you're pissed at me, but this has got to end."  
"You killed our only witness."  
"No I didn't."  
"What he's still alive?" My eyes narrowed.  
"Smart ass."  
"I pride myself on it."  
"No. Chris. He's our witness. We just agree to let him go at the end. He'll give everything. Much more then Brandon could've."  
"Will he agree?"  
"Yeah," I bluffed. He stood there thinking.  
"Ok. That sounds good."  
"Still pissed?"  
"Not as much."  
"You're gonna work with me on this?"  
"Yeah."  
"Ok." He nodded. "I need you to do something for me."  
"What?"  
"Garret Dehil. I need a background on him. I've got Chris Hegley at the bureau working on it, but it couldn't hurt to have two people looking into this."  
"Was he in with Manguso?"  
"Yeah."  
"Well hang out for a minute. I bring up his file."  
"Thanks." We both left his room. When we came back into the living room Jenn looked at us and smiled. I walked over to Chris.  
"We need to talk." He got up and we went out into the hallway.  
  
"We need you to testify." He grinned at me.  
"Why?"  
"We don't have any witnesses."  
"'Cause you killed him right?" I narrowed my eyes at him.  
"The charges will be dropped in the end."  
"Oh I already knew that." He paused for effect. "Yeah, I'll do it. That Covell is a bitch anyways. It'll be nice to see her behind bars."  
"Oh she won't be behind bars." He half smiled.  
"Ok."  
"Great." I turned and went back into the apartment. Ian had a picture of Garret on his computer.  
"Check this out." I walked over to him.  
"What?"  
"He's not dead. Last seen about two hours ago." I nodded.  
"He's the one who leaked my description. But you said the NYPD gave it. Could he be working for them?"  
"It's possible. NYPD didn't know you're a cop. They could've sent someone in on their own." I reached in my pocket and grabbed my phone.  
"Hegley." I shook my head and silently laughed.  
"Garret's alive. We think he might be working for NYPD."  
"Half right. Yeah he's alive, but I uncovered some background information that points to the DOJ. Could even be linked to the CIA."  
"He's working for the Department of Justice?"  
"Maybe you got in his way," Ian said. I turned and looked at Chris.  
"Did you know anything about this?" He shook his head.  
"This one got by me," he said.  
"I'll keep looking. And I'll pull in some favors at the Justice Department. I'll see what I can do about the CIA lead."  
"Alright. I call later." I clicked the line dead. Ian looked at me.  
"After Lorna now?"  
"Wanna come with?" He looked at Jenn. She shook her head.  
"Hell yeah."  
We got all our things together. Ian put on a vest, and so did Jennifer. Chris and I would get one later. Jenn and Ian got their weapons and we all filed out Ian's door. We were in the elevator going down when my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number.  
"Hello?"  
"Is this Jon Treverlan?" My memory raced to a house in Jersey, to a phone ringing, to one voice. It was her. Lorna Covell. The voice that haunted me night after night in my dreams.  
"Yes."  
"Good. Looks for things have gone from bad to worse for you."  
"What the hell." Before I could finish the sentence I collapsed to the floor. Everyone else was unconscious too. I could barley see when the doors opened on the bottom. There was a woman standing at the threshold. She was looking down at me and smiling.  
  
Part Three - The Things That Make Us Human Chapter Three - Something More Sinister  
  
"Where are we?"  
"I don't know." Ian and Jenn stepped from the darkness. The light from the dying fireplace cast shadows across the room. There was a couch, an armchair, tables, and an entertainment system. Chris finally joined them.  
"I know where we are," Ian said. He went over to the mantle of the fireplace. There were picture of Jon and Dorothy at their wedding. Ian was standing next to Jon in one of them.  
"This is Jon's house?" Jenn said.  
"His old house."  
"This is the place where it happened?" said Chris. Ian nodded. They each walked to a different part of the room and looked around. Ian, looking at the newspaper clipping featuring him and Jon, Jenn looking at the pictures Dorothy had taken, and Chris standing in the middle just looking.  
"You would've liked him a lot more back then," Ian said to Jenn. "He really was a great guy." They stood lost in thought.  
"Did you hear a car door?" said Chris. They each looked at the front door. The knob started to turn. The door swung open on its hinges. Jon stepped in.  
"Hey sweetie, I'm home." He paused at the door and looked around. "Dorothy? Hello?" He took a few steps inside. The sun was setting behind him with practiced bravado and it cast its foreboding glow into the foyer. The phone started to ring. He went over to it. Picked it up  
"Listen something strange is goin." The voice on the other end was muffled. "Who the hell is this?" There was another muffled voice. He pulled the receiver from his ear and stared at it. He hung it up, reached in his jacket and pulled out his Berretta.  
He walked through the foyer to the living room. He paused when he saw something painted onto the wall. It was a rose. He stood there staring at it.  
He continued into the living room. It was almost pitch dark except for the fading light of the sun and the dying fire in the fireplace. He walked right past Ian and Jennifer. Chris was standing by the stairs. The baby started crying. It made everyone in the room jump. Jon started to run to the stairs. He dashed up two at a time. Everyone else in the room followed except Ian. When he reached the head of the stairs he heard a man start yelling. Everyone else heard it too. They couldn't make out what he was saying.  
"Dorothy!?" There were three gunshots. Dorothy screamed from the other room. The group ran for the baby's room. Blood was everywhere.  
He lay there. Lifeless. Jon stood there. Looking. The baby was in his crib, blood covering his sheets.  
"Jon!" His attention shot up to the master bedroom. He nearly knocked the door off its hinges running in. What the three people in the room saw next was burned into their minds.  
The light from the shots blinded me. I could see him pull the trigger. I could hear her scream. I could see her fall. I could see myself aim my gun; pull the trigger over and over and over. Empting my clip, watching him fall. A glass of rusty brown liquid shattered on the floor. The bottle was half empty. I stood there with my gun still aimed for what seemed like forever.  
  
Ian was still downstairs. He knew what was coming. As though he had lived this a thousand times he mocked what his counter part said when he came through the door.  
"You left the door open you dumbass!" He watched himself call out for Jon, watched himself pull out his gun. He walked up the stairs with him and saw the baby with him. Jennifer was sitting in the babies room crying. The two Ian's walked into Jon's room and Chris was standing in the corner, a single tear coming down his face. The Ian from the dream reached out to his friend.  
"Jon? Can you hear me? Jon?" Jon turned and looked at his wife on the bed, then turned and looked at Ian. Together the other Ian and Jon said. "I'm transferring to the D.E.A." Ian closed his eyes. He heard Jon fall into the arms of his friend, crying like he never had before. He remembered everyday since then, seeing his friend get worse in front of him. Never completely understanding why. Now he understood. He understood everything. He knew why he killed Paul, why he killed Brandon, why he even transferred in the first place. He understood his friend like no one else ever would. And then it was over.  
  
I opened my eyes. The color slowly returned. Chris was lying next to me and he was coming around too. I shook me head to clear the fog in my mind. We were in a room with no windows. There was only a door. No furniture. I turned and looked around. Jennifer was sitting against the wall behind me crying. Ian was still on the floor. I got up and walked over to her. I sat down.  
"What's wrong?" She lifted he gaze to me.  
"Don't you know?" I shook my head. "We saw it. We all saw it."  
"Saw what?" She went back to crying. "Shhh. It's going to be ok. What did you see?"  
"What happened to you. A year and a half ago. When Dorothy was murdered."  
"What?"  
"We saw it. We were all there. Me, Ian, Chris. We watched what happened. We were there. I'm so sorry Jon. I'm so sorry." She went back to crying. Ian was sitting up and looking at me. So was Chris.  
"What the hell is she talking about?" Ian was about to talk when a panel opened up in the ceiling and a monitor came down. The ceiling was about twelve feet high and the monitor came down about five feet. It switched on and a woman's face appeared on it. She had brown hair that was cut short at her shoulders. Her eyes were a piercing brown, almost black. She was about forty year old judging by the lines on her face.  
"I believe I can explain that." Her eyebrow raised. "It's my latest development. We don't have a name for it yet. It neuraly links everyone who breaths it in to the first person who starts to dream. In this case it was you Mr. Treverlan." When she said that I immediately knew who it was.  
"You! Covell."  
"Very good Jon. It only took you eighteen months to figure it out." I sat there just staring at the monitor. "Speechless. Not what I expected, but." Her eyes moved over to Chris. "Chris? I can't believe that you would switch sides on me. I thought we had a deal?"  
"We did. And you went through with it. If you check you accounts you'll find that about two hundred eighty million is gone." I looked over at Chris.  
"That's ok. You won't be here to enjoy it." She looked back over at me. "As for what's going to happen to all of you. well. let's just say that I've created a great news story." The video flickered and another woman appeared. She was sitting at an anchor desk.  
"Our top story this hour. Jonathan Treverlan has committed suicide. He killed himself after a shootout with DEA agents Ian Eubanks and Jennifer Frostad. Unfortunately the two detectives did not survive. They were shot fatally in the chest and head area. Right afterward Treverlan killed himself. Autopsies are going to be preformed on the bodies as early as tomorrow, and there will be a parade in the honor of Eubanks and Frostad later this week. Coming up next." The video stopped and Covell came back on.  
"We'll be in to see you in a few. Until then, relax and get comfortable." Before anyone could say anything, she was gone and the monitor went back into the ceiling. I turned and looked at Chris.  
"Know where we are?" He looked at me.  
"No." He said it like he was far away.  
"Ian. Let's try the door." He got up and we walked over to the door. We stopped right in front of it and just stared.  
"I'm sorry," he said in a whisper.  
"For what?" He kept looking down.  
"I never understood what you were going through. Hell, what you're still going through. I just thought someone could get over something like this."  
"It's ok." He looked up at me.  
"No, it's not. I blew up on you when I shouldn't have. I got pissed off when I shouldn't have."  
"No, Ian you had every right to be pissed. What I did was stupid. I killed our only witness at the time, and got caught doing it. I'd be pissed."  
"I saw what happened. I heard her get killed. I didn't know what it really did to you until now."  
"You know what. Later. Just help me get this door." He nodded. I looked at the door handle. It was a rectangle with a curvature on the end, not a traditional knob. It was locked from the outside.  
We each stood there looking for a minute.  
"I don't think this going to work," Ian said. I nodded and sat down in the middle of the room. Ian walked over and sat next to Jenn. Chris looked at me.  
"So how's it going?" I just looked at him. "What? I hate uncomfortable silences. They annoy the hell outta me." I shook my head and stared at the door. The silence lasted for another five minutes until the door handle started to move.  
"Someone's coming," I said calmly. Ian and Jenn looked up. Chris looked at me. I stood up. The door handle turned and the door opened. A lone guard came in. He was about six feet and about two hundred pounds. He gave off the impression that he hated his job, but it paid well so he kept it.  
"Which one of you is Treverlan?" Before I could say anything Chris spoke.  
"I am." The guard stared at him.  
"Then get up." Chris stood and the guard walked over to him. I slowly made my way behind him. He was reaching in his pocket for a pair of zip ties to bind his hands. He was just about to grab Chris's hands when in one fluid motion I wrapped my hands around his head and snapped his neck. In the same moment Chris reached out and grabbed his gun. The guard collapsed at out feet. Chris smiled and tossed me the weapon. He reached down and grabbed the remaining clips and gave them to me as well. I looked over and Ian and Jenn.  
"Ready?" The both nodded.  
"Ready." We all made for the door. I peaked my head around the corner and took a quick look. The hallway was deserted. I looked down at my watch. Ten-o-clock. I stepped into the hallway.  
  
We went left because for most right-handed people, they would go right. I was in the lead, Chris was right behind me. Jennifer and Ian were following. There was another hallway about twenty feet down from where we came out. There were doors leading to different rooms, and a kitchen near the hallway junction. We were just coming up on the turn when we heard it. I raised my hand for everyone to stop. I dropped down to a crouching position. There were footsteps coming from the other side. I turned to the others.  
"Kitchen!" They all nodded and we backed up into the kitchen. The lights were out and the overheads from the hallway cast shadows across the room. Everyone went to a dark spot and hid. About thirty seconds later the two people walked passed. One of them was tall. He was about six five, muscular, and very tuff looking. The other was about five eight and small. They were walking in silence. Chris looked around the corner. When he turned back his face was grim.  
"They went into the room we were in." I turned toward Ian.  
"Yeah, we better go," he said. We all got up. Chris looked around the corner again.  
"They aren't there." He led the way. We stepped back out into the hallway. Chris rounded the corner and held up his hand. After a second he kept going. We walked slowly down the hallway for another forty yards. When we reached the end there was another turn. Chris rounded it and he turned and smiled. The rest of us came around and there were two glass doors that lead outside. As we approached the door it hit me.  
"This was too easy," I said. Ian and Chris turned to look at me.  
"Yeah, it was," Ian said.  
"How come I haven't seen any cameras?" Jennifer said.  
"I can answer that," a voice said from behind. We all turned and it was the taller of the two men we had seen earlier. "They're hidden. There watching us right now. So come with me." I looked at Ian. His face was confused. I turned back and looked at the man.  
"Ok," I said. He turned around and started walking. I started walking and a second later so did the rest. He led us back to the room we were originally in. When we were all in he closed the door. He turned and faced us.  
"They saw you escape, so I had to make it look like I brought you back." He drew a gun. It was a Styer automatic handgun with a silencer on the end. He brought the barrel up and pointed it at me.  
"You're Mr. Treverlan right?" I nodded. "I'm not going to shoot you Mr. Treverlan if you do exactly as I say, when I say. Ok?" I nodded again. "Sit against the wall. The rest of you too." We all backed up to the wall and sat down. The man stood with his back to the door and held his weapon at his side with it indexed. He stood straight up and looking forward, at nothing in particular. He was a military man.  
We sat in silence for ten minutes. An eerie silence where you can't even hear the air conditioner. We sat there in silence for ten minutes, not thinking a thing, until the door opened. The mechanism clicked and the handle turned. The tall man moved to the side and a woman came in the door. She was about five six, dressed in a business suit. She walked inside and stood in the middle of the room.  
"Thank you John," she said to the tall man.  
"It's Jack." She turned and looked at him.  
"I don't care. Wait outside." He grinned at her and walked out closing the door behind him. She turned and faced us.  
"We finally meet in person Jon." I stood up. She looked me up and down. "I always thought you were taller." She paused. "Why did you get these people involved? I mean, I going to have to kill them now. I'll find some Rose junkie to do it. You of all people should know how effective then are." She looked at Ian, Jennifer and Chris. "Chris, you can stay here with Jon." She walked back to the door and hit it once. A second later it opened and the man named Jack walked in. "Kill the girl first, and then kill the tallest one. Then bring Jon and Chris to me." Jack nodded. Lorna turned around and walked out, closing the door behind her. Jack stood in the middle of the room. He reached in his coat and brought out his Styer and held it at his side. He looked over at Jennifer.  
"Stand up." She looked at Ian with worry on her face and slowly stood. He brought the weapon up and aimed at her chest.  
"When you hear the shot, fall down," he whispered. He aimed the gun at her and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the room multiple times before the sound finally died. As soon as the shot hit her ears, Jennifer fell to the ground and lay still. Jack lowered the gun and looked at Ian.  
"Stand up." With no hesitation he stood and stepped up next to Jennifer.  
"Same as her," Jack said. He raised his weapon and aimed at Ian's chest. Again the shot echoed through the room, and he fell to the ground beside her. Right as he fell, Chris leaped up from his sitting position and lunged toward Jack. He swung and hit Chris right in the stomach. He fell down clutching his mid section. Jack walked over to him and knelt down.  
"Nice acting," he said.  
"You too," Chris wheezed. Jack grabbed his arm and jerked him off the ground. He stood him upright and I walked over and put my arm around his waist to keep him steady. Jack pointed the gun at my head.  
"Ok. Let's go." Chris looked up at me, and then looked down at Ian and Jennifer. Blood was starting to pool from their bodies. Jack walked around behind us and buried the gun into the back of my skull.  
"Move." Chris looked up from the two inert bodies on the floor and faced forward. We started walking with Jack behind us. We reached the door and I opened it.  
"Go right." I drug Chris around the threshold of the door and we started walking down the corridor.  
"Where are we going?" I asked. Jack pushed the gun deeper into my head.  
"Shut up asshole." We walked in silence for the rest of the hallway. When we reached the end there was a turn and a door. I heard something drop to the floor. The gun fell away, and Jack bent down. When he came back up he leaned in close to my ear.  
"Sorry about your head. Just acting. This is your only chance to get out of here. Go through that door and out the window. Take the black Chevy Tahoe to the diner down the street. Wait for me there. I'll bring your friends."  
"Wait. What's going here?" He dropped whatever he had dropped before. When he came back up he spoke again.  
"Something more sinister they you think. Now get out of here." He reached between us and opened the door and pushed us in. I turned and looked at him.  
"You'll meet us there?" I asked. He simply nodded and turned around. I stood there watching him go. Chris put his hand on my shoulder. I turned around followed him out the open window.  
  
Part Three - The Things That Make Us Human  
Chapter Four - Jack Reacher  
  
He turned around and ran back to the room that held the other two people. He just needed a little bit of money. His girlfriend worked on Wall- Street and made a fortune as a finical lawyer. She had a great apartment a few blocks away and she lived great. He on the other hand lived in a huge house up near Westpoint that his former commanding officer had left him in his will. He had never lived in a house before. He had never had to pay bills, insurance, and a mortgage. He had worked odd jobs off and on since he had gotten the house, but nothing that ever interested him. He got into this because he thought it might be interesting. Bodyguard work. He followed this Covell chick around for eight hours a day. He had nothing better to do, and the pay was good. Everything was going great. Then one day he walked in at the wrong time. Instead of firing him on the spot, she took him under her trust. She showed him how the entire business worked. How she trafficked the stock in, how she distributed it. Everything. Then he started getting to deep. He started knowing things that could get him into real trouble. He found out about the killings, saw them first hand. He knew they were there, but no one could tie him to them. Then he found out about them, saw them. He could be connected, traced. He could get into real trouble. So he was going to get out. Quit the job; go back to the quiet life. Find something else. He had it all planned out. He had talked it all out with his girlfriend, she was going to get him a job. Then he heard about this Treverlan guy. He was getting in her way. There was a history between the two. Something really bad. So he called around. Pulled in some favors, talked to some people, and found out just about everything. So he decided to get the guy out of dodge. After that he was gone.  
He went back to the room that the other two were in. They were still lying on the floor. They hadn't moved since he left. He ejected the clip in his gun and loaded a real one. He aimed up into the upper right corner of the room and fired off a round. There was the sound of electronics shorting out and being blasted into a thousand pieces. He looked down at the two on the floor.  
"It's ok. You can get up." The tall guy was the first to move. He brought up his arm and pushed himself up. The girl moved next. They both stood up and looked at the tall guy standing before them. There were huge red stains on the front of their shirts. Jack looked at them.  
"What I shot you with were corn syrup bullets. Made it look real." The guy nodded.  
"Who are you?" the girl asked.  
"Jack Reacher. I'll explain everything later. Right now we have to go." The two looked at him with skepticism in their faces. He closed his eyes and exhaled. "Listen. You two just have to trust me. I've already gotten the other two guys out. Now we have to go." They looked at each other and then looked at him.  
"Ok," the man said. The girl looked at him and then at Reacher.  
"Ok. Follow me and stay close." Reacher turned and walked out the door. The other two followed behind him. He took a right and walked down the corridor. He pulled out his Styer as he approached the door Treverlan had gone into. When they were about fifteen feet from the door, a guard came around the corner. He stared at Reacher.  
"Where are the other two?" Reacher thought quickly.  
"They got away from me. Go tell the boss." He looked at him curiously.  
"But didn't you kill the two behind you"  
"I must've missed. But I won't miss again." He brought up his weapon and aimed at the guard's chest. When the trigger was pulled back all the way, the bullet left the barrel faster then the speed of sound, and by the time the sound of the blast reached the ears of Ian and Jennifer, the bullet had embedded itself into the guard's heart. He died painless and quick. He hit the floor with a thud. Reacher turned and looked at the tall guy.  
"Come on." He turned back around and walked to the door. The other two followed. When he reached the intersection he looked down the other hallway incase someone was coming. He reached out and grabbed the knob. When he turned it, an alarm went off inside the building. He cursed at himself. The boss had set the alarm, in the hopes that Reacher would fall for it. He did. It disgusted him that he fell for it. The son of an army officer and thirteen years as a Military Police man, he should've known that you can't pull the same trick twice. He had been out of the service for six years now, and every day that went by he lost some of his skill. The basic training stuff, you of course never loose. The eight weeks in boot camp stick with you, because those are the worst weeks of your life. The stuff you work for you never loose. The ability to see something no one else can. It sticks with you. The complicated stuff you never loose. The hard stuff, the skills that took you years to hone. If you loose something like that, it's like loosing a part of yourself. The basics on the other hand, some of it goes. Basic instinct never goes, but basic teachings you can loose. The endless days spent in a classroom, going over statistics, and looking in textbooks. When you're learning how to find someone, you want all the field training you can get. You don't want to sit in a classroom. You file the information in your head. Like a computer hardrive, you create a directory for the boring classroom stuff and you store it there. You access it when you need to, and when you don't it just sits there. Although when you don't use it, it gets pushed back farther and farther into the hardrive. Resources are diverted to new directories and new programs. It sits in the background degrading. Certain files go away. They just disappear for no apparent reason. When you need them, they aren't there. You run search after search looking for them. But when something related to them happens, they always find a way to surface. Pathways are rewritten, resources are diverted, and the file is found as if to say "I'm still here, why didn't you use me?" Afterwards when you have time to reflect on the situation, you realize that you knew where the file was along. You were just too ignorant to see it.  
Reacher threw open the door and stepped inside. There were two armed men sitting in chairs pointing assault rifles at them. There fingers were twitching on the triggers. They were high on Wild Rose. Both of them stood up and stepped forward. The one on the right was short and stocky. He was dressed in street clothes. The other was tall, about six one. He was dressed in black fatigues. He was a little more jumpy then the short one.  
"Come on Jack. We gotta bring you in," the shorter of the two said.  
"Why? What did I do?" The tall one's eye twitched.  
"You helped those two escape," he said. Jack turned and looked at Ian and Jennifer.  
"Who, these two? No no. They got out on their own. I'm bringing them back in."  
"No. The camera's said you took them," the tall one said again.  
"No, you're wrong. I'm bringing them back to the boss." The shorter one looked confused.  
"No. The boss told us to kill you if you didn't come with us. So come on."  
"Where?" Reacher asked.  
"To the boss," the tall one said.  
"No you said you would let us go." The two of them looked at each other.  
"No we didn't." Reacher looked at them.  
"Yes you did." He turned toward Ian and Jennifer. "Didn't they?" They nodded in agreement.  
"Yeah, you said you would let us go," Ian said. By now Reacher had taken a few steps forward. He looked at the two with the guns.  
"You two look sick. Why don't you let me have those?" They looked at each other.  
"No. You can't have." Reacher lunged forward and smashed their two heads together. The sound of skull breaking filled the room. The two men dropped to the floor into a heap. Reacher stepped forward and picked up the two rifles. He turned and faced Ian and Jennifer.  
"You two know how to use these?" They looked at each other and looked at him. They reached out and grabbed the rifles from him.  
"Ian Eubanks and Jennifer Frostad, DEA," Ian said. Reacher nodded.  
"Ok then, let's go." The three of them walked over to the window and Reacher opened it. As he did the door burst open and two more men walked in. They raised their weapons and aimed, but Ian was faster. He drew up his weapon and unleashed a barrage of fire into the two guards. The fell to the floor. Reacher threw the window up and helped Jennifer step through. He turned and looked at Ian.  
"You go, I'll cover you," Ian said. Reacher nodded and stepped through the window. Another guard came in and Ian unloaded the rest of his clip into him. He threw the gun down and ran to the window. He could hear three more people coming behind him. They crossed the threshold of the door as Ian leaped through the air and flew out the window. He landed in a shoulder roll and stood right up. Reacher and Jennifer were a few feet ahead of him. Ian started running and Jennifer aimed at the window. Three men appeared and began to open fire. Jennifer aimed and opened fire on the window. The glass shattered above the three men into thousands of pieces. They screamed as the shards cut into them. Jennifer turned around and followed Reacher and Ian.  
They ran to a car that was parked on the side of the road. Ian looked at Reacher.  
"This yours?" Ian asked. He looked at him with a smirk on his face. He cocked his elbow up and shattered the driver's window with it. He reached in and unlocked the doors.  
"No." Jennifer got into the back seat. Ian stood there staring at Reacher.  
"You know that's illegal," Ian said. Reacher opened his door.  
"Just get in the car," he said. Ian shook his head and opened his door. Reacher opened a panel under the steering wheel and pulled out some wires. He bent down and stripped the ends with his teeth, found the right two and put them together. There was a spark of light and the engine came to life. He came back up and put the car into gear. He jammed the accelerator to the floor and jackknifed the car out of its spot. When he righted the car Jennifer rolled down her window and opened fire on the five men running toward the car. The glass next to Ian shattered and cut his face.  
"Where the hell did they come from?" he said. Reacher left tire marks on the asphalt as they drove off.  
  
Part Three - The Things That Make Us Human Chapter Five - Something More Sinister (revisited)  
  
We sat in the parking lot for about twenty minutes. We sat there waiting. The car that we found unlocked was a huge luxury SUV. It was a dark green, with an all leather interior. The thing was fully loaded. Power windows, locks. The seats had massagers in them as well. Chris sat there with his on. It made a soft humming noise that was just barley audible. I sat staring in the rear view mirror. Watching as traffic went by, waiting for a car to pull into our parking lot and for Ian and Jennifer to get out. I kept looking, kept waiting.  
"Do you think we should go look for them?" Chris said. I looked down at my watch. It was eleven in the morning.  
"We'll give them a few more minutes." My watch was about the only thing I had left on me besides my clothes. They had taken my phone and my pistol that I had brought. Everything else was back in Ian's parking garage. I looked up from my watch and back into the mirror. Rain was still coming down in a light drizzle and was splashing on the back window. I still didn't know what part of town we were in, but there weren't many cars on the road. Taxi's were scarce.  
It was ten minutes after eleven when the car pulled in. Chris was starting to get antsy after about five. He kept looking at the clock on the dash board. The car that pulled in had a broken driver's side window, and I could see Jennifer in the back seat. It pulled into the space next to us and the engine cut out. Ian got out of the passenger side and Jennifer got out the back. The tall guy from who escorted us got out of and stretched in the rain. He motioned for Chris and I to get out. Chris opened his door. He looked back at me.  
"Can we trust him?" I raised and eyebrow.  
"He saved our lives." He thought about it and nodded.  
"Yeah, ok." He stepped out of the car. I took the keys out of the ignition and opened my door. The rain started to trickle onto the leather door interior. I stepped out and followed our group into the restaurant.  
The tall one was the first to enter. He picked a booth in one of the corners, far away from prying ears. There were four other people in the place. Two were at the counter and a couple was at a booth at the other end of the building. The counter was similar to another diner I had been to earlier that morning. The rest however was more modern. It was laid out like a more traditional restaurant. Booths along the walls, tables in the middle. The tall guy sat down and I sat across from him. Chris sat next to me and Jennifer next to the tall one. Ian walked to a table and grabbed a chair and sat at the end of the table. We sat in silence for about a minute before I spoke.  
"First off, who the hell are you?" He sneered at me.  
"Not exactly the nicest greeting for someone who saved your ass this morning."  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Here, how's this. Hi. My name's Jon. What's yours?"  
"That's a little better. Jack Reacher." I looked at him.  
"Sorry, it's been a stressful fourteen hours. Jonathan Treverlan. DEA." The rest of the introductions followed, Ian and Jennifer stating their titles, Chris saying 'Chris Goodwin. Common criminal gone good.' The waitress came over and took orders. Jack ordered coffee black, Jennifer got some orange juice. Ian got coffee with sugar and I got nothing. After the drinks came and we all got comfortable I asked what was all on our minds.  
"So what's so sinister?" He had his cup up to his lips. He took a sip and set it down.  
"Wild Rose. She's the one who's selling it." Chris rolled his eyes.  
"We know that." Jack looked at him.  
"I'm not done yet. She's not just selling it to make a profit. The drug makes people easily persuaded. It also makes them very confused. But she's trying to get all the homeless in the city to take it. Homeless, people who live in the slums. That's what? About a million or so people in this city." Ian was staring at him in disbelief.  
"An army. My god, can she actually pull something like that off?" Jack looked at him.  
"I've seen worse. A few years back, I was in Montana. A militia group almost succeeded in declaring independence." Ian shook his head.  
"But, take over New York City?"  
"It could be done." Everyone looked at me. "Think about it. First of all, no one knows she's in charge on the operation. Second, everyone thinks that whoever is in charge is doing it to make a profit. She's already got the money. She wants power. She could do it." "Well we gotta stop her," Jennifer said. Chris sat there shaking his head. "What's the matter with him?" Jack said. "I don't get it. She told me everything. I knew everything. Why didn't I know about this?" He kept shaking his head. "You weren't on Wild Rose. She was going to kill you in the end," I said. He looked up at me. "We gotta stop her," Jennifer said again. We all looked at her. Jack smiled. "You, all have to stop her. If I go with you, I'll end up killing her myself. And from what I hear Treverlan has a bit of a history with her, and he should probably have the honors. I'm going home." "Yeah. That sounds good. The rest of you should go to. I have to do this alone." Chris pounded his fists on the table. Everyone in the place looked over at us. "No fucking way. I'm going with you Jon. I wanna watch that bitch die. I want to be standing over while the life bleeds out of her." "Chris, go hom." "No. I'm going with you." "So are we Jon." Ian and Jennifer were looking at me. I raised my finger as if talking to children. "If you get killed. well let's just say, I gave you fair warning." "What ever," Chris said. "The next question is where is she?" Jennifer said. "I can find out," Chris said. "I have her internet access codes. I can get her schedule." "Don't you think she would've changed them, knowing you switched sides?" Ian said. "No, she's got too much on her mind today to worry about her passwords. Just get me to a computer and I can tell you where she is." "Ok. Ian, we go back to your place. Our stuff's there anyways." He nodded. Jack reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He laid a twenty on the table and got up. "Thanks for the coffee. You got my keys?" I reached in my pocket and tossed them to him. "See you around Reacher." He half smiled and then he was gone. We all got up and went out to the car. As we drove through the city to Ian's apartment, everyone in the car was thinking the same thing. Everyone knew that the next chapter in this saga was starting. Everyone knew that by the time this day was over; their lives would be considerably different. The only thing we didn't know, is how it would be written.  
  
Part Three - The Things That Make Us Human Chapter Six - The Beginning  
  
The lock clicked as Ian turned the key. The bolt sprang back and the door squeaked when it was pushed open. The four of us walked in and we all stood in the middle of the room. No one spoke. No one had to. Chris walked over to Ian's computer and sat down. Jennifer went to the bathroom. Ian and I stood facing each other. He stared at me with question in his face.  
"What?" He tilted his head.  
"How do you expect to do this?" I shock my head.  
"I don't know." Without knowing my eyes closed. When they opened Ian's face had changed from question to concern.  
"Go get some sleep. Take my room."  
"No. I'm alright." He looked me square.  
"If you want to kill her right you need to get some sleep." His words hit me like a point blank shot in the face. I turned on my heel and walked to his bedroom. The room reflected his personality. His desk was mess, his Playstation was sprawled out all over the floor. The only thing that was neat was his bed. I walked over and took off my jacket, and threw it on a chair. I kicked off my shoes and sat down on the bed. The wave of exhaustion that I had pushed back for the past hours swept over me. My eyes had closed and my conscience had shut down before my head hit the pillow.  
  
Like all the others that had started before this one was different. Someone had taken what had happened over the past fifteen hours and put it on paper. The plot was a gaping hole in the heart of the book, plugged with every worn out cliché and crackpot conspiracy theory one could think of. The only thing I could take seriously was the thought of the writer taking it seriously. I was a hard-boiled New York cop, working deep undercover inside the mafia for the DEA, and only a select number of people knew I was on the side of the good. But sure enough, in a New York minute my cover was blown, people I knew were against me, and Jonathan Treverlan was a wanted man in a world of hurt. It was divided up into parts. Subdivided into chapters. Part three was starting to come to an end. The next part of the story was coming up. What was going to happen? Why couldn't the writer just tell us? He goes for weeks as a time not writing anything, keeping us hanging in mid-air, expecting us to be fine with it. Deep fears of what could happen seeped into our minds, filling us with fright. But just when you thought you had reached the deepest depths of horror it suddenly got worse. A building exploding in the night, a subway tunnel filled with gas. A maze of rusty containers, an apartment building collapsing in on itself. A house with a dead man lying in bed. The feeling hit me like a point-blank shot in the face. I've seen this before. I've seen it all before. The book was a patchwork of other people's ideas, tied together with yellow tape.  
  
My options soon decreased to a singular course, a linear progression through three parts of hell. I walked straight in, playing it Bogart, like I'd done a hundred times before. I kept going, despite all odds. Defying all the authority around me. On the run from the law I was trying to protect. This is the way the world works. It isn't about how smart or how good you are. It's chaos and luck, and anyone who tells different is a fool. Death was cheap today, and I was the provider. The final shot was going to be an epiphany of what had happened and what was to come. Just fifteen hours had passed, but it felt like a lifetime. Now I had the chance to go on, to continue the story, to find out how and why the final shot was going to be what it was going to be. Only problem was, you couldn't skip to the end and find out what happened. You couldn't skip over the fight, the pain, and the hurt to the end. Somebody hadn't learnt the rules. Someone was trying to cheat. Was it worth going through the pain again? Maybe. Just maybe. Part three came to an end with me waking up. The beginning had started and now we were going to go into the middle. This would be the longest part. It would come quick and easy. The writer would wake up one morning and the idea would be there. He would know the exact sequence of events that would lead up to the final shot. He knew, but he wouldn't tell.  
  
My eyes slowly opened. My head instinctively looked around me, the blurriness not allowing me to see anything. My hands came up and I started rubbing my eyes. The sleep quickly lifted and my conscience came back to life. I swung my legs over and put them on the floor. When I moved my hand my watch slid down my wrist. I brought it up to my face. It was four- thirty. I had been asleep for nearly four hours. I stood and walked over and grabbed my coat. The door squeaked as I opened it, and I stepped into the main room of the apartment. Ian was lying on the couch with his eyes half closed. Chris was sitting in and easy chair fast asleep and Jennifer was in the kitchen with a drink in her hand. When I walked over to her she looked up at me with a blank stare. "Whacha got there?" Her eyes were empty. "Vodka." Jennifer didn't drink. "Um, are you ok?" "I'm fine. I mean I haven't had any. I just like to hold it." Her gaze went back into the living room. I followed it and saw she was looking at Ian. "What about him?" She didn't move. "There's nothing wrong. I just can't decide if everything's right." "What?" She looked back at me. "I mean if it would be right to ask him to dinner or something." My eyes widened and quickly went back to normal. "I've spent a lot of time with him over the last few hours. He took care of me after you got me out of my building." She paused to look at him. "He held me." I took a second to think of the right thing to say. "Jenn, you know that he was doing that to comfort you." "I know. But it felt good. It felt right." I knew that feeling. I knew how it felt to hold and be held. To love and be loved. I knew how it felt for everything to be exactly right. "Listen, if you think that it's the right thing for you, maybe it could be the right thing for him too. You have to try." She looked back at me and smiled. "Thanks. You're a good friend Jon." She set her drink down and walked into the living room. I watched her to over to Ian and wake him out of his half sleep and start to talk to him. I could remember a time when I walked over to Dorothy. I could remember all the walks over to her to talk to her. But that was in the past. Those feeling and those memories died with her that day. It surprised me that she hadn't come back to haunt me because I felt nothing inside. As much as it would piss her off, the thought of me with someone else, she wouldn't want me to be alone. Problem was I was alone. I had had plenty of opportunities, but had never clearly seen them. I almost had one earlier last night. A small one, but an opportunity none the less. I walked over to the phone in Ian's kitchen and dialed Cathee. "Hello?" Her voice lifted my mood. "Cathee. It's me. Jon." I could feel her smile on the other end. "Jon. Hey there. I haven't heard from you in a while. What's up?" I could tell her. Tell her how we were captured, but it would ruin the moment. "Nothing much. I'm over at my boss's apartment. After Paul's I came back here, though I did lose my phone. Any possibility I could get another one?" "Sure." She paused. "I'll have Chris meet you some." I cut her off. "Could we meet?" There was no thinking about it, no considering the options, weighing the pros and cons. "Yes. The diner we met in earlier. How's twenty minutes sound?" It sounded great. "I'll be there." Her end clicked dead and I hung up my end. I turned around and looked out into the living room. Ian and Jennifer were sitting the couch, close, and Chris was still asleep. I quietly made my way to the door and left. Walked down the hall to the elevator and rode it down. I walked over to my car and got in. The guns and vests and what was to come later were still in the trunk. I put the keys in the ignition and turned them. The engine roared to life and I pulled out to start a completely new battle.  
  
Part Four - But in The End. Chapter One - The Diner  
  
I pulled into the parking lot I had pulled into hours before. It seemed like a lifetime had passed. I had walked in, covered in fresh blood, looking like a solider that had seen too much. I walked in now, a solider who seen too much, but lived to reform himself. I locked the doors, put the keys in my pocket and walked up to the door. I could see my reflection in the glass. Not the same man I used to be. My hair was neat, my face shaved, nice clothes, and two new goals for this day.  
I pulled open the door and stepped in. The place was empty like it had been before. Cathee was at the counter, the same seat I had sat in earlier. I walked up and sat down next to her. There was a cup of coffee and a cell phone on the counter. I looked up at her and into her eyes. They smiled. She looked different that she had the last time I saw her. Her hair was down, and she was in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. She looked me over and smiled.  
"Had a shower since the last time I've seen you," she said. It was a statement more then a question.  
"Yeah. They work wonders let me tell you." She giggled.  
"Oh yeah. Yes they do." There was a silence. She finally broke the ice after a minute. "So anyway here's your new phone and. it's been activated and everything. My number and Hegley's number is in there and." She stopped talking. I reached out and took the phone.  
"Thank you." She looked down at her coffee. Now was my opportunity. "Listen. I was wondering." The classic approach. ". if after all this is over with, if you wanted to get a drink sometime?" She looked up.  
"That would be nice. Except I don't drink." I half smiled. She tilted her head. She could sense I was going to say something smart.  
"Well then you can watch me drink and better enjoy the time we spend together." She giggled again.  
"Ok. What the hell. Call me after this is all done." I was about to say 'ok' when she spoke again. "Just what exactly are you going to do?" Now it was my turn to lower my head.  
"I'm going to kill her." Just as I said that a cop walked in. He sat down four seats from us. I turned my head quickly, yet subtle and lowered my voice. "Let's get a booth." She nodded and set a five on the counter. We got up and walked over to a booth, and just as the cop turned to look at us, I sat down with my back to him. She sat across from me.  
"Just what exactly do you mean you're going to kill her?" She said softly.  
"Exactly what it sounded like. I'm going to kill her."  
"Who have you got as backup?" The FBI in her was coming out.  
"My boss Ian, my undercover partner and Chris Goodwin." Her head went back in surprise.  
"Chris Goodwin? You know where Chris Goodwin is?" I looked out the window. Rain was still coming down.  
"You know what? I'll take you to him, and explain everything on the way." She looked out at my car, and looked at me. She had a can I trust him look. I looked back at her.  
"Yes, you can trust me." She nodded.  
On the way back to Ian's I told her everything. How I first saw Chris, how I went to Maldonado's, how Chris helped me with Paul. That he had agreed to testify when we needed to. Everything. She sat there not saying anything, just listening. I told her how I trusted him and how she should keep him around.  
I pulled into Ian's garage about twenty minutes after we left the diner. I pulled into the spot I had parked in before. The engine died as I turned the key. We sat there in silence. The car was making creaking noises as it cooled. We both stared out the windshield to the concrete just feet away. She finally turned and faced me. I turned my head and looked at her.  
"I want to help you," she said.  
"Why?" She took a breath.  
"Because Dorothy loved you like." she paused, straining to get the words out. ". like I love you."  
"What?" My comment shocked her.  
"I. I don't know. The bureau has been watching you, I've been watching you. We knew that you were undercover. We were monitoring you. But I was watching you. Learning all about you, without meeting you. I read your dossier from NYPD, and from the DEA. I. I fell in love with you. If you don't feel the same, it's ok, but." I cut her off again.  
"I don't." She looked hurt. Her head lowered, and a tear started to form. "But I can try." She looked back up at me. The tear fell down her cheek. I reached up and wiped it off with my finger. Without giving up contact I moved my hand and brushed her hair aside and cupped the side of her neck. I pulled her in and leaned my head to the right. When our lips met, what I thought would happen didn't. I was expecting memories of me kissing Dorothy, lying her down, making love to her, all the happy times coming back. But there was nothing like that. Instead there were memories being created. Thoughts of a future with her, just being with her. Our mouths opened and we kissed deeper. We stayed locked together for what seemed like and hour, but was only about a minute. When we stopped, she looked into my eyes.  
"I love you Jon." I smiled, but I couldn't say it. Not yet. She smiled. She knew a response like that from me would have to wait. And she would wait as long as possible.  
We both got out. We walked into the lobby and over to the elevator. I pushed the six button and it glowed. The car brought us up, unwillingly, and stopped at our floor. We walked down the hall to 613. I opened the door and we walked in. Chris was still asleep, Ian and Jennifer were lying on the couch together, Ian holding her. I looked at Cathee.  
"I'll wake them," I whispered. I leaned in and kissed her right quick. She closed her eyes and smiled. I walked over to Chris and shook him up. He stood and stretched. When he turned and saw Ian and Jennifer, he looked at me.  
"What's with them?" I looked at him.  
"It's a new day." He looked at me confused. I walked over and shook them awake. They both stood and stretched. Jennifer sat back down, Ian looked at Cathee.  
"Who's this?"  
"Ian Eubanks, Cathee Cappaso, FBI. She's here to help." I turned and looked back at her and then turned back. "And this is Jennifer Frostad, and Chris Goodwin." He was smiling.  
"You guys have been trying to catch me for a while haven't you?" I gave him a look.  
"Quit while you're ahead Goodwin." He looked at me and smiled.  
"I'm here unofficially, and I'm here to help Jon." I looked at her. She smiled at me. I smiled and looked down at my watch. Five fifty. According to Chris's information, Covell would be having dinner around seven thirty in her penthouse at Veridian Plaza. About an hour and a half to go. We stood for a moment all in silence until Cathee's phone rang. She reached in her pocket and got it.  
"Cappaso." She went on to talk to the person on the other end. Ian motioned me to the kitchen.  
"What's with her?"  
"She's here to help."  
"No, no I get that. I'm fine with that, but what's with 'I'm only here to help Jon'?" I looked at him. "Jon, what's the story?" I leaned on the counter.  
"I like her. And she likes me. A lot." He sighed.  
"Hell of a time to start a romance," he said.  
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"  
"You sure she won't get in the way?" This time it was my turn to be mad.  
"You sure that Jenn won't get in your way?" He leaned on the counter.  
"That's different." He shook his head.  
"Are you sure? Because I don't think it is. And what's with hiding information from me? I mean, she knew I was undercover. How did she know that?"  
"The FBI knew yes, but I didn't tell you."  
"Well no shit."  
"I didn't tell you because I knew you would act like this."  
"Act like what?" My temper was slipping.  
"Act like we should be in this alone, with no help from anyone, because you wanted no help. Because you were on this whole revenge thing. What happened to that huh? Now all of a sudden you want help?"  
"Yeah. But I would've have appreciated you telling me about the FBI." He shook his head.  
"God damn." Cathee walked in.  
"Hegley found out about Garret. He's in with the CIA." Ian and I stared at her. We both pushed off at the same time and we both walked out into the living room.  
"We're leaving," we both said. Chris turned from the window and looked at us. Jennifer stood from the couch, Cathee walked in behind us.  
"Where are we going?" Chris asked. Ian and I turned and looked at Cathee.  
"NYPD. Downtown."  
  
Part Four - But in The End. Chapter Two - Bai Si Di  
  
The "G" lit up as Ian pushed it. We had all agreed silently back in the apartment that we would all go. We would somehow get into the downtown office and find Garret.  
The car came to a stop at the garage level and we filed out. Ian, Jennifer, and Chris all went to Ian's car. Cathee walked over to the passenger side of mine and waited for me to unlock it.  
"We'll meet you there," Ian shouted from across from the garage. I simply nodded in return and pushed the button to unlock the car. The sound echoed as we pulled our doors open and slammed them shut. I put the key in the ignition and the engine came on and went to a soft idle. I put the car into reverse and pulled out. Ian was right behind me.  
"So what is he doing there exactly?" I finally said.  
"He's directing the investigation to find you. Posing as a DEA director from Washington."  
"So how are we going to get in there?" She was looking out the window, watching the cars go by.  
"I'll go in. I'll say that I want to talk to him in private. I'll bring him to a room, and Ian will be there. I'll have Jenn sneak you in from the back."  
"Easier said then done."  
"I had Hegley call in a few favors with the department. We'll be able to get you in to talk to him."  
"You sure about this?"  
"No. But I hope it will work." I sighed and kept driving.  
  
I parked across the street and Ian parked in the garage. Cathee got out and walked into the building. Jennifer slowly drifted to the back. Ian went in with Cathee and Chris stayed in the car. Once she got Garret into a room she would beep my phone and I would go in. Until then I sat and watched the people go by.  
  
*********  
  
She walked in with an air of confidence about her. Playing is Bogart, like she'd done it a hundred times before. She put her hands down on the desk sergeant's counter, not hard, but with enough force to get his attention. He looked up at her with a lack of interest. She reached in her pocket and brought out her badge.  
"Special Agent Cappaso, FBI. I'm looking for Garret Dehil." The desk sergeant looked sufficiently impressed. He came around the counter and escorted her personally. The squad room was full, everyone on the hunt for the number one fugitive in New York City. He was near the back of the room with a desk someone had thrown together in about five minutes. There were papers strewn across it. He was had a white dress shirt on with a tie that was loosened. He was leaning on his elbow reading a report. When she got to his desk, he looked up. There was a bruise on his neck.  
"Can I help you?" His voice was horse.  
"Cathee Cappaso, FBI. I have some information on Jonathan Treverlan." His eyes got wider. He stood and put out his hand. She took it and they shook.  
"Garret Dehil. DEA. Pleasure." She cocked her head.  
"Nasty cold you've got." He shook his head.  
"Yeah, I just got over it. Just the voice left to recover."  
"Anyways. Lets speak in private." He nodded and walked around his desk. He led them to an interrogation room.  
"Not here. People could be listening," she said.  
"Don't trust us?"  
"No," she said. He turned and led them to another room. Half way there she reached in her pocket and grabbed her phone. She pressed a few buttons and put it back. He opened the door and she walked in. He stepped in and shut the door behind him.  
  
*********  
  
I sat there going over random things in my mind. I was thinking about when I took karate as a kid. I had made it all the way to first degree black belt. There was this one kata however that always stuck with me. It was called Ba Si Dai. It meant 'to penetrate the fortress. The phone Cathee had given me beeped on the seat. I looked down at it, took a deep breath, opened the door, grabbed it and got out.  
  
*********  
  
The phone in Jennifer's pocket beeped twice. She took a deep breath and came out of her hiding place to meet Jon.  
  
*********  
  
The phone in Ian's jacket beeped. He took it off and laid it across the chair in front of him. He took a deep breath, leaned on the desk in the room and waited.  
  
*********  
  
She entered the room and saw Ian standing on the other side of a table, leaning on a chair. It was a small room, like a forgotten relic of the past. There was a small window behind Ian, looking out into the ally. She walked in and Garret closed the door.  
"Who's this?" he said. Ian came around and walked up to Garret. He held out his hand.  
"Ian Eubanks, Projects Director for the New York D.E.A." Garret took his hand and they shook.  
"Garret Dehil, from the main office in Washington. Tell me Mr. Eubanks, why are you here?"  
"I was just about to ask you the same question Mr. Dehil."  
"Treverlan killed Brandon Ritchie. Therefore it becomes a D.E.A. matter. You?"  
"We've been tracking the Manguso Crime Family, which Treverlan is a member of. We have information that might be useful." Garret shook his head.  
"Well why don't we all have a seat and see what we've got."  
  
*********  
  
She was standing by a dumpster near a window on the side of the building. When she saw me coming she came out into a clearing.  
"They're in there, talking."  
"How am I supposed to get in?"  
"In about a minute or so Ian's going to open the window. That's your cue." I shook my head in agreement. We were silent for the next few moments.  
"So how did things work out with you and Ian?" She looked at me and smiled.  
"We're going out next week. Once this whole thing blows over. Thanks again for talking to me."  
"Hey, it was no problem." Just as we got done talking the window above us opened. I looked back and saw Ian stick his head out a bit. He didn't look down but he could see us. He gave a small smile and ducked back inside.  
  
*********  
  
Garret and Cathee were sitting opposite of each other talking. Ian was standing at one end of the table listening. She was talking about how the FBI had been watching the Manguso family and how Treverlan had climbed up the ladder so fast. She was giving him knowledge a few months old, stuff that was already known.  
Ian looked down at his watch and stood up.  
"Anyone mind if I open the window?" The other two looked up at him and nodded. He turned and walked over to the window. He turned around and looked back at the other two. Cathee was facing him and Garret had his back to him. He turned back and bent over and lifted the window. He brought it to his full height and leaned out. Through his peripheral vision he could see Jennifer and Jon talking softly. He smiled and leaned back inside and walked back to the table.  
  
*********  
  
As soon as his head went back in I climbed up on the dumpster. I turned and looked at Jennifer and gave her a nod and she backed out of the alley. I moved over to the side of the dumpster that the window was on and waited a second. I could hear Garret and Cathee talking about my physiological profile. I put one foot on the window sill and slowly brought myself onto it. I looked in and Garret had his back to me. Cathee had her head down looking at papers and Ian was watching me. As quietly as I could I stepped into the room. Cathee had finally looked up and she stared at me.  
"In my opinion, he's totally crazy. He's killed so many people tonight and it seems like he doesn't even give it a second thought."  
"Well you're sort of right Garret," he turned around. "But the people I didn't give a second thought to killing were Paul and Brandon. But you turned out to be a thorn in my side." He stood there thinking.  
"Not bad Treverlan. They said you were a cop, but I had my doubts. Then you killed Brandon. Then I knew. You kill just like one."  
"I'll take that as a complement."  
"So what? Are you here to kill me to?"  
"I don't know yet. Just what exactly is it you're doing here? What does the CIA have to do with this?" He stood there with his arms crossed. Ian walked up to him, drew his weapon, grabbed his shirt and dug the gun into his throat. Garret winced.  
"Not feeling talkative are we?"  
"Ian what are you doing?" Cathee said. He ignored her. Ian pushed the gun even deeper and sat him down in his chair. I walked up to him.  
"Now tell us, why is the CIA involved in this case?" He said nothing. A smile grew on his face.  
"You really have no idea how high this goes do you? Not that you'll be able to do anything about it." I stepped back.  
"Ok. Then just tell us this. How many agents are there? We don't want names, just how many." He shook his head.  
"You don't get it do you? This involvement with the D.E.A. and all the other organizations is just a façade. It's just to show the people that the system works. You're wasting your time." He smiled.  
"Just tell us what we want to know," Cathee said. Garret exhaled a deep breath.  
"You can kill Covell. But it won't stop anything. The government will find someone else. You can't stop us. You can't even touch me." He looked at Ian and smiled again. It was as if he knew something about Ian that we didn't. The anger built up inside of him. I could see it in his eyes. He put his gun in his holster and grabbed Garret by the shoulders and turned him around.  
"What the hell." Ian jerked his upper body.  
"Shut up asshole. I don't like your attitude. I may not be able to bring you down, but I sure as hell am going to make you disappear for a while." Garret turned his head and spat in his face. Ian let go of a shoulder and hit him in the back of the head. Hard. There was a loud thud and he was out.  
"Grab his legs," he said to me. I walked over and grabbed them.  
"Cathee, open the window all the way," Ian said. She walked over and pushed it open. Ian walked us over to the window.  
"On three."  
"What, we're just going to throw him out?" He looked at me.  
"One. two. three." We both tossed him out. There was a crash as he hit the ground below.  
"Come one. Let's go." The three of us jumped out into the alley. When we got down Ian and I picked up Garret and put him in the dumpster. Cathee and I started to walk away when I heard Ian pick up something. When we turned we saw him throwing anything he could lift onto the lids.  
"What the hell are you doing?" I said.  
"I don't want him to get out for a while." He had a look of hatred on his face. One I had never seen before. When he was done the three of us walked out onto the street. Ian went to his car and Cathee and I went to mine. We both started our engines and went the same way. Next stop; Veridian Plaza.  
  
Part Four - But in The End. Chapter Three - The Middle  
  
"What the hell got into him?"  
"I don't know. I've never seen him like that before." The rain had let up some, but there were dark clouds coming over the city. Ian had pulled ahead of me a few blocks back and he was leading the way to Veridian Plaza. We drove on for another couple of blocks when the light turned yellow. Ian hit his gas hard and sped through it. I let off and came to a stop. Shaking my head, I looked at my watch. Six-o-clock.  
  
*********  
  
He had gotten into the car mad. He put the keys in the ignition and started the engine mad. He threw the gear shift into drive mad. He drove off mad. He didn't know why. He couldn't explain it. There was something about his smile. It was something about the way he looked. It had triggered something inside him. And then he lost it. Threw caution to the wind and let loose. He took the risk of someone walking in and seeing Jon and went with it. It felt good. It felt missed. They were six blocks from the station and he was still mad. The adrenaline pumping through him. He started swerving in and out of traffic. He changed lanes and passed Jon leaving him behind. He was coming up on a light and it turned yellow. He put his foot to the floor board and the engine jumped to life and the car sped through. Finally Jennifer turned to him.  
"What happened?" He looked at her.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"Well for one you're driving like maniac," Chris said. Ian looked in the rear view mirror and looked at him.  
"I don't know what you're talking about." He looked back to the road.  
"Ian. Something happened in there. You were fine before."  
"I DON'T KNOW!" he screamed. He gripped the wheel. Chris and Jennifer looked at him.  
"What happened," Jennifer said.  
"I don't know. One second Jon's talking to him. the next. I don't know. He smiled at me and. I lost it."  
"He smiled at you?" Chris said.  
"The weird thing is. it feels good. Good to be this pissed off again."  
"Again?" said Chris.  
"I wasn't always like I am today."  
"Could've fooled me," Chris said under his breath.  
"Say that one more time Goodwin and I'll reach back there and throw your sorry ass outta here. Jon may like you, but I sure as hell don't." Chris looked at Jennifer.  
"Now this kind of guy I could learn to get alone with."  
"Everyone just shut up and let me drive."  
  
*********  
  
Ian sped past us and got lost in traffic. We sat at the stop light.  
"So? How are going to do this?" I looked at her.  
"I don't know." She looked out the windshield.  
"Well, the place is bound to be under guard." I looked out the windshield.  
"I'm sure it will be."  
"She'll probably have posted all your pictures so the guards know what you look like."  
"She doesn't know what you look like." She looked at me again.  
"I don't think so Jon."  
"Thought I'd throw it out there." We drove in silence for the next few blocks.  
"So we're just going to go in there an kill everyone?" she said.  
"Got any better idea's?" She thought for a moment.  
"No."  
"Ok." We kept driving. After a few blocks we saw Ian in the distance. He had parallel parked in front of a huge skyscraper. We saw the three of them get out. They all grabbed handguns and put on vests. We pulled up behind them and I put the car into neutral and pulled the hand brake up. We both got out and shut our doors. I looked up to the sky. It had stopped raining. The calm before the storm. I opened the trunk and we grabbed our weapons. The three from the other car came over to us.  
"Ready?" Ian said. I turned to him.  
"Ready." I took the lead and everyone else fell in behind me in a triangle formation. We walked up to the door. Just as I was about to open it, it burst open. Tony Ciani stood there. His gun pointed at my head. He was alone. My gun was down.  
"Treverlan. You stupid fuck. So predictable." He pulled the trigger. Time slowed down again. I saw the bullet coming toward me. That's all I saw. No light, no life passing me by, just the bullet. I still saw Ciani when it entered the side of my head. As my head jerked to the left the light from the gunshots blinded me. I heard myself fall, then I heard him fall. Then it started.  
  
Part Four - But in The End. Chapter 3.5 - The Middle part Two  
  
Treverlan. You stupid fuck. What the hell got into him? You can kill Covell. But it won't stop anything. Cathee Cappaso, FBI. I have some information on Jonathan Treverlan. Because you were on this whole revenge thing. Because Dorothy loved you like.like I love you. How do you expect to do this? Something more sinister they you think I. I still. still would've. done it anyway. I. still.I still would've killed her. I can help you Mr. Treverlan. Help me with what? With your crusade of course. It's true. I do practically run this business. Jon? Ian. I got some news. You've been promoted. Cathee Cappaso. Undercover FBI. Veridian Corporation. One Step Closer Is this Jon Treverlan?  
  
The white light finally came. I was surrounded by it. I could hear the last day all over the place. The voices were coming from all sides. For the first time in a long time I was scared. The voices finally singled out to the one that stood out the most.  
Is this Jon Treverlan? It came from behind me. I turned to see if I could find it. When I thought that I had fully turned I saw them. They stood before me three feet apart. I shook my head.  
"No. No. I won't do this." An invisible voice that only I could hear told me it was time.  
"NO! I can't." They stood there before me. Waiting for the verdict. I closed my eyes hoping that I would just wake up and everything would be fine. It never worked though. When I opened them, they were still there. They stood there saying nothing. They only breathed.  
"Help me," I said to them. "I can't make this one on my own." Silence. I sighed. "I said I wasn't going to do this on my own." I sat down on what I thought was the floor. I crossed my legs and looked down. After a minute I looked up. They still stood there. Staring. I shook my head, the frustration building within me. I stood and took a step forward. They both smiled. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again. I turned my head to the one on the right. My eyes to the one on the left. My left foot stepped out and went to the left. My mind was made up. I turned and faced my first love. I smiled as I walked toward her. I knew what I had to do. I was halfway there. Then we could be happy again. Until she held up her hand. I kept coming. She shook her head no. I kept coming.  
"No." I stopped.  
"What do you mean no?" She smiled.  
"I mean it's not time."  
"Not time?"  
"It's not time for you come here yet."  
"I miss you."  
"I know. But I'm always watching. You know that."  
"No," I said, my voice trembling.  
"You have a new love now. She's waiting." I looked at Cathee. She was smiling at me. She understood. She knew what I was going through. Dorothy reached up and touched my chin. She brought my face level to hers. Her heels lifted off the white floor and she leaned in and kissed me. When she stopped the tears came out of my eyes.  
"I know you thought this was right, but there's still more for you to do. I'll watch over and protect you. I promise. Now it's time to wake up." The white started to go to black. They started to fade away.  
"I love you." My eyes opened. Everything was blurry. The sounds around me were fading in and out.  
"He's going to be alright. Right?"  
"We need to get him to a hospital."  
"We can't." Things started to come into focus. Cathee was kneeling beside me. My face was warm with blood. My body was numb, yet I could move. I stood up. An arm handed me my rifle. I looked at it and then looked at the person. Cathee looked at me and nodded in understanding. She knew where I had been. I looked back to the door ahead of me. Ciani's blood covered it.  
"She dies tonight."  
  
Part Four - But in The End. Chapter Four - An Army of.  
  
I stepped over Ciani's body and opened the door. The five of us stepped into the building, knowing that we were holding our life in our hands. The ground floor of the building was a lobby that took up the entire length and width of it. There were couches and tables positioned around what could be considered the center. On the side there were reception counters. The entire floor was about seventy-five feet by fifty feet. Entirely filled with people. There was easily two-hundred. All of them standing in rows, with a small path in the middle. They were the druggies and homeless people of this part of New York. Covell's army. The five of us stood there in a single file line. Staring.  
"MR. TREVERLAN!" a voice said over the loud speakers. It was her.  
"LIKE WHAT I'VE DONE WITH THE PEOPLE OF NEW YORK?"  
"How is this possible?" Chris said.  
"I KNOW THAT YOU'RE COMING AFTER ME MR. TREVERLAN. I JUST THOUGHT I WOULD THROW YOU A WELCOME PARTY." With the last words of her sentence the people on the floor seemed to come to life. They turned toward the five of us. Cathee gripped my arm. I turned toward her.  
"Run," she said. I looked back to the path that lay before us.  
"I love you," I said.  
"I know." With that I took off into a dead sprint. I was running faster then I had ever run before. When I was about a quarter of the way through the path closed and the army surrounded me. Grabbing my rifle I started swinging it around me, knocking down as many as I could. Swinging it with the barrel of the gun, I took about twelve. There was a small hole starting to form around me. Behind me I could hear the other four putting up their fight. Throwing my rifle in the air, I flipped it around, catching it by the trigger handle. I pulled the loading mechanism back and loaded the gun. Taking aim ahead of me I pulled the trigger. The mechanics inside came to life and bullet after bullet came out of the gun. I started running again. The gun was achieving the effect I wanted. While only hitting a few people the rest of them started to back up. The path in front of me started to form again. An unknown source of energy came to life inside of me and I ran faster. When my rifle started clicking I let it hang from my shoulder and reached inside my jacket and pulled out my berretta. When I was nearing the end the elevators came into sight. There were three of them. Just as I was about to get to them, they opened. These men in dark suits were inside, holding assault rifles. As they took their aim, I leapt through the air and went into a shoulder roll. When I came out of it I aimed at the center car and fired. The guy in the suit went flying backward. Before the center guy hit the floor I had re-aimed and fired again at the man on the right. I stood up and ran for the center car. The guy in the left car had come out by now and was running toward my car. I pressed the button for the top floor and there was a muted chime. When the doors were halfway closed the third man reached my car. I pressed my back up against the left wall and he opened fire. The sound of metal against metal rang off the walls like church bells. The bullets made their way through the slim walls that made up the doors and prodded their way into the metal on the other side. When they finally closed the car started to go up. It was only then that I realized that I had left all my friends below. Without thinking about it I reached out to push the stop button. As my finger touched it though the phone in my inside pocket rang. Taking it out and putting it up to my ear I said hello.  
"Jon. Where are you?" It was Cathee.  
"Central elevator. Heading up. Where are you?"  
"Ground floor still. As soon as we lost sight of you everyone just stopped. Ian got into a. confrontation. Other then that we're fine."  
"Well. ok. That's good. Get to the other elevators and meet me on the twentieth floor. We'll regroup there."  
"Ok. See you there." The line clicked and she was gone. I pushed the button for the twentieth. When I hit the fourth floor the speaker above me crackled. I looked up at it.  
"MR. TREVERLAN. I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU ARE BOTHERING TO COME UP HERE. I'M SURPRISED YOU GOT PASSED MY THREE GUARDS. ESPECIALLY WITH A BULLET IN YOUR HEAD. WHY ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO BOTHER MR. TREVERLAN? IT'S POINTLESS TO GO ON. TELL YOU WHAT. I'LL LET YOU MEET YOUR FRIENDS ON THE TWENTIETH FLOOR. THEY'LL BE A SMALL RECEPTION WAITING FOR YOU. I HOPE AFTER THAT YOU'LL RECONSIDER AND GO HOME." I looked directly at the speaker.  
"You can taunt me all you want. It won't stop me from killing you tonight."  
  
IAN  
  
As Jon reached out to open the door, it burst open. Tony Ciani, the guy that Jon had worked with while undercover stood there with a gun aimed at Jon's head.  
"Treverlan. You stupid fuck. So predictable." Jon had his gun down, and as Ciani said the last word he pulled the trigger. The blast from the gun echoed off the building and the street. On impact Jon's head went back and to the left. He made no sound as he fell. When he was half way down Ian Eubanks raised his gun. The three other people present followed suit. Eubanks aimed at Ciani's head and fired. The bullet found the center of Ciani's head and went straight in. It went right through and out the other end. When it burst through the back of Ciani's skull blood splattered of the glass door behind him. As he fell, the bullets from the other people entered into his body. One into his heart, one into his chest, another into his head. When he finally fell Eubanks looked down to his friend. Cathee Capasso had already knelt down at his side. Eubanks turned and looked at the other woman in the group.  
"He's going to be alright, Right?" Jennifer Frostad had said. She had a look of fright on her face. Eubanks turned to look at Chris Goodwin.  
"What do you think?" Goodwin looked at him.  
"What the hell are you talking about? We obviously have to get him to a hospital," he said.  
"We can't." Capasso said.  
"What do mean we can't?" Frostad asked. Eubanks looked at her.  
"If we take him to the hospital we practically give him to the NYPD. We can't do that."  
"If we don't do something he's gonna die. If dies that we're in deep shit." Goodwin said. Eubanks looked at him.  
"He's not gonna die."  
"Since when are you the all powerful?"  
"He's not gonna die."  
"His eyes are opening." Capasso said. Eubanks and Goodwin stopped fighting and looked down at Jon. His face was covered in blood. He slowly shook his head and began to sit up. When he finally stood Capasso handed him his rifle. He looked at her and she nodded. He looked away from her and to the door in front of him.  
"She dies tonight," he said. He slung the rifle onto his shoulder and stepped over Ciani's body. He pulled open the door and went inside. Capasso followed behind him and Eubanks behind her. What Eubanks saw next caught him completely off guard. He hadn't thought it was possible. Standing before the five of them were at least two-hundred people from the streets. They stood in single file lines facing inward. They were divided in the middle of the room and formed a path.  
"MR. TREVERLAN!" a voice said over the loud speakers. It was Covell.  
"LIKE WHAT I'VE DONE WITH THE PEOPLE OF NEW YORK?"  
"How is this possible?" Chris said.  
"I KNOW THAT YOU'RE COMING AFTER ME MR. TREVERLAN. I JUST THOUGHT I WOULD THROW YOU A WELCOME PARTY." With the last words of her sentence the people on the floor seemed to come to life. They turned toward the five people. Eubanks saw Cathee grip Jon's arm. He looked at her.  
"Run," she said. He looked back to the path that lay before them.  
"I love you," he said.  
"I know." With that he took off into a dead sprint through the path of people. When he was about a quarter of the way through he disappeared into them. The ones in the front started to advance. Chris stepped up next to Ian.  
"Um. they're coming at us." Chris said.  
"Ian what are we going to do?" Jennifer asked. By now the first wave started to descend upon them. With Eubanks standing out in front they attacked him first. The first guy threw a hook-punch and missed. Eubanks came back with a left jab and knocked him over. A smile on Eubanks face started to grow. Another three guys came after him and they engaged in a fight. The other three started to take on one or two at a time. Everyone froze however when they heard gun shots coming from the middle of the lobby. Eubanks threw one guy off him and pulled out his gun. Instead of trying to kill everyone around him he started aiming low. The smile started to get bigger. His gun clicked and he ejected the clip. The fighting around him had stopped. His comrades behind him were staring ahead of him. The ejected clip clinked on the floor. Two gunshots echoed from the opposite end of the lobby. Eubanks looked up. Before him stood a man a few inches shorter then him. With red hair, he wore a sadistic smile. He was of a medium build with pale skin. He didn't look like much, but Eubanks knew otherwise.  
"Ian Eubanks. Never thought I'd see you again." The smile reached its peak.  
"Chad. How did you get out?" Eubanks asked.  
"Oh you know. Bribed a guard here, killed one there. Stole a car, killed a couple of more people. You know. Business as usual."  
"I should've killed you when I had the chance."  
"Oh come on Ian. You know that you became a better man because of me." Eubanks bit his lower lip.  
"I will kill you Chad."  
"I'd like to see you try." A circular ring formed around the two men. Eubanks reached in his pocket and grabbed another magazine. Chad pulled the firing chamber back and loaded a bullet into his gun. Eubanks put his clip into his gun and did the same. For the two in the ring, time slowed to a crawl. Chad brought his gun up and aimed at Eubanks' head. Eubanks dove head first to the ground. The first shot just barley missed his head. The second shot followed him down to the ground. The third shot ripped through his jacket. The fourth through his left pant leg. The fifth shot smashed the floor near Eubanks' right arm. Right before Eubanks hit the ground he curled up and went into a roll. Half way through the roll the sixth shot tore into Eubanks' right hip. The force of the impact sent him tumbling sideways. He rolled onto his side and onto his stomach. He took aim at Chad's left leg and fired. The bullet lodged itself into Chad's shin. His seventh shot was misdirected. It went into a couch a few feet away. Chad's leg shot up behind him and he started to fall forward. Eubanks fired a second shot. The bullet dug into Chad's lower stomach. Chad's head fell forward as the bullet ate away his insides. The third shot from Eubanks' weapon connected with Chad's heart. His face contorted, and his upper body went backwards with the force of the impact. He practically stopped in mid- air and fell down. His body crumpled into a heap and lay lifeless. Chris came up and helped Eubanks to his feet. There was a blood stain forming at his hip.  
"You killed him." He said.  
"Yeah," said Eubanks.  
"Why?" asked Jennifer.  
"I put him away a few years ago. His name was Chad Broadbeck."  
"Wait. The Chad Broadbeck? The one who killed all those people in Baltimore?"  
"Yeah. I got him on trafficking."  
"How?" asked Chris.  
"Later. I'm gonna find Jon." Cathee said. She reached in her pocket and grabbed her phone. As she started to talk Eubanks turned toward Chris.  
"I had to earn his trust. The things I did to get it were inhumane. I had to kill, and I liked it. It was like I was unleashed inside. But at the same time it felt good to let go." He paused to think. "It's like I feel now. You know. Garrent smiled at me and there it was. I felt the rise of that old familiar feeling. I hated it. I welcomed it." He paused again and looked at Chad on the floor. "I'll never forgive him for it."  
"Jon's on his way up to the twentieth floor. We're meeting him there." Cathee readied her gun, as did Chris and Jennifer. The three of them started walking down the center of the army. Eubanks stopped at Chad.  
"You son of a bitch. Burn in hell." The other three were ahead of him. He put his finger around the trigger and started to limp down the path. The army parted. It was as if an unheard command was given to forfeit. They all stood still and looked at the four as they walked through.  
  
Part Four - But in The End. Chapter Five - A Rose by Any Other Name  
  
JON  
  
After the elevator passed the tenth floor, the metal on the back side of the car folded inward, reveling a stunning panoramic of the city. The sun was starting to set, and the rain clouds were coming in from the east. The rain had stopped when we had arrived, but it would be coming again, with a vengeance. I stood there with my rifle on my shoulder, holding my phone, looking out into the city. It looked so peaceful from here. The lights from the buildings were coming on, people starting their nighttime work. There was a sereneness about the moment. A moment that would soon be interrupted.  
I put my phone back into my jacket pocket and turned around. I grabbed my pistol and checked the clip. Next, I swung my rifle around and checked its magazine. Making sure that it was full, I held the rifle at a ready position. The panel that showed the floor number glowed red, the numbers increasing. When the panel read "19," I pulled the loading mechanism and loaded the rifle. The number changed to "20" and a muted chime sounded, indicating that I had reached my destination. I made myself prone against the left wall and waited for the doors to open. When they did, and the burst of fire that I was expecting didn't come, I slowly eased my head around the corner.  
There was no one there. The floor was a combination laboratory and command center. I stepped out onto the floor. The sight was impressive. The first half alone was all lab equipment. There were twenty tables set up in four rows, with beakers, computers and other testing materials. The second half was even more impressive. Raised up about a foot from the rest of the floor was a vast command center. It was sealed off from the lab by a glass wall. Through the glass, on the far wall were massive view screens. The whole thing looked like NASA'S mission control room in Houston. There were computer stations monitoring various readings. Off to the left in the high tech room was a section raised about four feet off the floor. Inside were monitors showing various parts of the building, and also summarized readouts from the different stations.  
A lot of the test tubes and vials were filled with a rusty brown liquid. There were bulletin boards set up with chemical equations on them. All of them had "Wild Rose" written on them somewhere. Each station had a slightly different chemical formula on it. Above the formula was a different job title. Solider, engineer, security, and many more. This was how Covell was controlling her army. Each person took a different variation of the drug and was made to do different tasks.  
As I walked through the lab area reading different reports, and elevator inside the command center chimed. I ducked down behind a table, knowing it wasn't Cathee and the others. As quietly as I could I crawled over to the corner of the table and peered around. There were five of them. Each one held an assault rifle and a sadistic smile.  
"You two, take the left, you two take the right. I'll go up the middle." The leader said. The group of five split up and slowly made their way toward me. I was still near the elevators I had come out of. I pulled my head back so I could not be seen and backed up to a cupboard. I got an idea and reached over to pull it open. Praying that the hinges wouldn't squeak, I eased open the door. Inside were a couple of microscopes, a few books and three test tubes. I half smiled to myself and grabbed one. Knowing that my plan probably wouldn't work, but that it was my best chance of getting out of here alive, I crawled over to the corner. Peering around the corner, I could see the guy coming up the middle, and the guys on the right. The guys on the left were hidden by the tables. I was one row away from the middle guy. Getting my rifle ready, I gripped the test tube in my other hand. I rounded myself around the corner and rolled the test tube down my row. All sound on the floor ceased as the tube rolled against the tile floor. I saw the middle guy give the guys on the right and left a command with his hand, and he crossed over into my row. By now I readied my rifle and was waiting for him.  
  
A bomb went off in my head. The bullet lodged in my brain moved a fatal, microscopic distance. 


End file.
